


For Alexandria

by CandyassGoth



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alexandria Safe-Zone, Alpha Negan (Walking Dead), Alpha Rick Grimes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biology Inaccuracies, Carl Grimes is a Little Shit, Carl wants to take full advantage of that shit, Daddy Kink, Derogatory Language, Dirty Talk, Dubious Corality?, Dubious Morality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Negan (Walking Dead) Being an Asshole, Negan Being Negan (Walking Dead), Negan is a softie for Coral, Non-Penetrative Sex, Omega Carl Grimes, Omega Verse, One-Eyed Carl Grimes, Pet Names, Play-mating, Poor Rick Grimes, Protective Carl Grimes, Rough Sex, Sort of sweet and caring Negan, Swearing, so is Negan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2019-07-03 07:50:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 59,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15814617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandyassGoth/pseuds/CandyassGoth
Summary: Carl presents as omega after they get to Alexandria.He offers himself over to Negan in exchange for easier quotas and no bloodshed. Negan has too many wives already to be starstruck by the offer like Carl hopes. Carl is stubborn though.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, never thought I’d write this ship, let alone a fic on The Walking Dead. But _hot damn sON_ daddy kink, age differences and omegaverse are my weaknesses. This clawed its way out of me like a demon. Someone holy water me pls. (anyone watched the exorcist series? holy shit those exorcists are fiiiiine what is wrong with me today)
> 
> I wrote all of this in a few hours after realising I fucking missed Negan even if I hate the bastard and then I got angrier thinking about poor fucking Carl and then I held them both and sobbed and then this came out. Hope it generally makes sense and no one is too Ooc and such (again, never written for these guys, or read much, if any fanfiction). This takes place at no specific point in time but definitely is after Carl snuck to the Sanctuary to kill Negan and ends up with a tour and all that follows. 
> 
> Omegaverse AU and canon divergence, which is pretty obvious. 
> 
> ~~Carl is 17+, whatever floats your boat~~. Okay no Carl is 18+. I'm leaving it as tagged 'underage' because he's still a teen and Negan is...old.
> 
>  
> 
> _I apologise for errors_

Carl was tired

He was tired of many things. He had been for a few years now, but it finally all came to a great, fat head in the form of Negan.

Negan with his shit-eating grin and his ridiculous swagger. In another world Carl might have allowed himself to openly admire that, desire that, but both admiration and desire were scarce here and had been dwindling in supply since he could remember. He’d admired many people on the way to this moment, his father above all for the impossible trials he had got them through, but this was the first trial Carl doubted his father could overcome.

Negan. Strong. Crazy. Confident. Playful. Alpha.

Again, in another world where those things weren’t quite so pronounced, Carl might’ve wanted that. But not this version. Not truly… But that didn’t stop the fact that he _did_ admire and desire the imposing silhouette of Negan—it was just too bad it belonged to who it did. It wasn’t his fault, he knew he was a good guy for the most part and he certainly didn’t buy into the ‘future serial killer’ bullshit. It was only nature working in its merciless, primal ways that humanity had chained up for so long in the name of civilisation. 

Rick was a great alpha, a man Carl was proud to call Father and a man that had shaped Carl into the young man he was today in a world where waking up dead was a reality and every step out the door could be your last. Life as they knew it was upside down since the apocalypse, morals tested and humanity stretched to the max, to the point where men like Negan could own whatever they wanted by using whatever force they wanted, much like the days before Man called himself _human_. They were animals once more, fighting and feeding and fucking. _Tale as old as time_ , Carl thought sarcastically more often these days when playing with Judith and her colouring books of forgotten fictional princesses.

He was tired of fighting. The other two didn’t necessarily have to be bad. But the fighting had reached a point, an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. Alpha to alpha. Rick to Negan. Neither would back down without a fight and like many times before Carl feared his father would lose the battle—only this time it was the war at stake too. They’d lost enough, and every time Negan beat Rick down into the dirt with his actions or words a little more of Carl chipped away, revealing the things he’d buried carefully all these many years of adolescence. 

It really wasn’t his fault, he didn’t _want_ this, but nature was cruel and cold and natural selection was its ruthless commander and everyone was a slave to it—surely even Negan. There was no ignoring the shift inside him when two alphas went head to head, and one winds up on top, just like the shift alphas had when taking a liking to an omega. It was only natural. It was only natural. It was only natural…

Carl repeated it silently to himself when he was alone so many times that he was numb when he’d made his decision. He was tired and numb, tense and sore in ways that went past the physical. It was a feat he was still _alive_ , he knew, not smugly, but distantly, a morbid study of himself in this atmosphere where others like him had perished. Omegas were not meant to live like this. This was an alpha’s world—and even then, only the most ruthless.

And Negan was the worst of them all, back in their home with his cocky jibes and swinging bat to torment the shit out of them for not keeping up with their turnover. They _were_ guilty though, they weren’t handing over what was demanded. They needed more than what Negan left them, and right now hiding food was all Rick could do to keep some form of control. It was pathetic, but so was Negan travelling all the way back here personally to point it out. They were at another tipping point, and watching Negan kill another member of their community was just not worth the disobedience. Not for Carl. 

No, he’d been toeing the line for a while now without realizing it, becoming numb when he did because what more could he expect his father do? Nothing but fight, nothing but lose, nothing but sink lower until Carl’s nature turned him over to the new alpha in charge.

It wouldn’t come to that, _but_ Carl wouldn’t wait for that to happen, he _couldn’t_. Negan was only as patient as his mood but Carl had been the exception too many times to pretend otherwise. It was both a boon and a slight. Negan favoured him in a way that could only be twisted and dark, calling him his little _future serial killer_ , embellishing him as if he was anything like Negan. Carl was different to those around him, and Negan clearly thought the same of himself, but it didn’t mean they were cut from the same cloth. Carl had earned Negan’s respect, without wanting to, but this world was about taking charge of opportunities and Carl couldn’t lose that respect before using it. It was the only thing keeping him alive, and if he needed to use it to extend that to his people, then that was what he needed to do. 

Now here they were; group against group, all of it coming down to who Negan would aim his anger at, a dark ritual in the making. 

Negan didn’t quite catch on when Carl first spoke up, drawing Negan’s attention away from his possible victims.

“Come again, kid?”

“ _We can’t keep doing this_.” Carl repeated louder.

“Oh, I agree. But I wouldn’t be here if your asshole of a dad would buck the fuck up. Don’t you get tired of it? Man, how you people have operated this long is a _big_ fucking mystery to me.”

Yeah, Carl knew that. It was going to take more than futile fights and lives lost to help Negan _see_ them.

“We’ll get it t’you. Just give us more time.” Rick grit out, shaking with fury as Negan’s men pointed guns in every direction. Luckily most of the people of Alexandria were still inside in their homes, peeking out the curtains at the people who weren’t so fortunate and were stuck here now with them and Negan, a story that was on the road to a familiar ending. Carl was tired of those endings. He was too tired to go through another. 

“I don’t believe that.” Negan shrugged.

“Please,” Carl whispered, closer to Negan than anyone else, than anyone else dared to be. Carl was the only one who remained relatively in place when Negan sauntered up to them with his men.

Negan rounded on him with the glare he’d been aiming on Rick. 

“What do you want me to do, Carl? It’s not my goddamn fault we’re here in this shitty conversation, _again_. It’s _his_.” Negan jabbed Lucille at Rick, bending to make eye contact with Carl. “I’m tryin’ here but it’s just not working, is it? What will it take, mmh? I’m tired of repeating myself, over, and _over_. It’s like the blind leading the fuckin’ blind here, only it’s the deaf version! So what the _fuck_ must I do when you people _won’t get your shit together_?!”

Everyone flinched as Negan’s barking echoed through the street. Carl could practically feel Rick and Michonne hovering a few feet behind him, ready to grab him and pull him behind them with the rest of their increasingly small family. 

Carl blinked tiredly at the snarling alpha, feeling the distant tug in his belly to drop and hide from the anger and violence. He’d presented so late and by then he was already tougher than a boy his age should be. It did make it a hell of a lot easier to control the omegan instincts crawling under his skin every day of his life. Weakness wasn’t an option; it was why omegas were becoming rarer than a shooting star, and he was pretty certain it was exactly why Negan had taken a shine to him. 

“Just stop.” Carl said, lifting a hand as if to touch Negan, but the man was a couple steps too far back. He ignored Rick hissing at him to get back, and focused on Negan with the one damn eye he had left. “It wasn’t on purpose.”

“Bull. _Shiiit_. Don’t lie for him. I know he’s your pop but he’s gonna get you killed, kid. He’s going to get you all killed!”

Carl knew that too. It’s what brought him here, putting himself between his loved ones and the man who was turning their world upside down more than it already was.

“Give us time!” Rick shouted, taking a few steps forward. Michonne grabbed onto the back of his shirt and Negan raised Lucille at them. Everyone else was silent as the grave.

“It’ll never be enough.” Carl said, looking at his father. He kept his face smooth, someone had to be calm. It was funny how omegas were deemed emotional but here were a bunch of alphas losing their shit like kids over a swing set.

“Not with Rick in charge.” Negan snorted, sighing heavily and rolling his shoulders back as if to mimic the quiet calmness Carl was clinging to.

“You’re taking too much.” Carl snapped at him.

“I will take whatever I damn well please.”

“Yeah, until there’s nothing at all. Great plan.”

“It ain’t my fault your group keeps screwin’ up and earning demerits. Seriously, you people make me tired as hell.”

Carl sighed and lowered his gaze to Negan’s long legs. He wiped his eye tiredly and sighed again, running his fingers back into his hair.

Negan sighed again too, tilting his head back as if he was the one being given the short end of the stick. He tapped Lucille into the ground a few times, digging his heels back into the gravel.

“Take everything we have and leave. We’re sorry.” Michonne said, her jaw as tight as her fingers in Rick’s shirt. She didn’t sound sorry or reasonable, but Negan killing them was a more immediate danger than having no supper tonight. Carl didn’t want either of those things.

“No.” he said, glaring at Negan. Negan smirked, his anger subsiding as quickly as he could swing his bat. Carl exhaled through his nose and started over, soothing out his brows.

“I mean…we can’t afford it. We’ll starve. My sister will starve.”

“She’s more than welcome to come home with me, just like you are. I don’t see why kids should suffer for their parents’ dumb choices.” 

Carl shifted uncomfortably at the condescending look Negan gave Rick, it never got easier to watch your alpha being sat on, especially by an alpha you were interested in.

“I agree.” Carl said, turning and keeping his eye on Negan who glanced at him, raising a fine brow. Negan had time on his hands to be able to keep himself looking as presentable as he did, adding another layer on top of Carl’s reluctant attraction. Tobacco, leather, shaving cream and clean alpha, it all screamed power in their broken world. Who didn’t like power?

“I’m glad.” Negan said, smiling at him in that horrible, predatory way that made Carl shiver. He’d been around his fair share of alphas, but none of them had ever had made an impression on him like this, presented or not. He’d never given much time to relationships, everyone died anyway, and while he liked Enid, it was a wisp in the wind compared to the feelings Negan drew from him. And if he was sure, at least somewhat, the feeling was mutual.

“But you’re still being unfair.”

“I don’t think I am, sweetheart.”

“Now who’s not listening.”

Negan smiled wider if possible, glancing over Carl’s shoulder as Michonne whispered Carl’s name in a warning. He looked back at Carl and shrugged. 

“Not sure there’s anything more to listen to. Unless y’all have a brand new excuse as to why my shit is not here ready and waiting then I don’t think there’s anything more to say. I think I’ve been more than patient, Carl. Wouldn’t you agree? I haven’t killed any of your people in the last two trips, even though you’re pissing me the hell off. Now, why am _I_ the unreasonable one?”

“Just hear me out.” Carl stepped closer, frowning at the two steps of footsteps that followed him. He looked back at his guardians, his alphas, his protectors, and gave them an irritable look. They were both gesturing quietly and furiously for him to get back, it was almost funny, but Carl was numb to the fear of dying. He was also flying on a hunch right now and he was the only one who could do it, and sure as hell the only one brave enough to.

“One minute.” Negan said, shaking out his arm dramatically and glancing at his watch-less wrist.

Carl slapped his hand down, earning two guns pointed in his direction and a string of cursing from Rick. Negan just looked surprised, leaning back as if to say _how dare_.

“I’m being serious.” 

“And I am listening.”

“I—” Carl swallowed. It was difficult saying—suggesting—what he needed to. Submitting wasn’t natural to him, nor was the pull towards another person in this way. He found himself trapped in Negan’s ever intense gaze, cheeks growing warm with every second longer he spent in Negan’s proximity. His voice, his scent, his smile, his gait, it was all fermenting Carl into the thing he couldn’t allow himself to become _before_ he’d offered it.

“Carl.” Rick growled. Carl heard Michonne holding Rick back, but he kept looking up and thankfully it kept Negan’s eyes on him.

“Carl…” Rosita called, a question hanging in the air. 

Carl glanced back momentarily, noting he had quite an audience, most of whom looked ready to jump straight into a fight. It wasn’t what he wanted, he was doing this to avoid that. He wished he’d had a better chance to do this, they were caught off guard. At least there weren’t too many of them present, especially fighters like Carol, Morgan, Sasha, Tara. Having his dad, Michonne, Daryl and Rosita present was already too much aggression. 

“Yeah….?” Negan prompted.

Carl winced. “Can we talk about this privately?”

“ _Carl_.” Rick growled again. “ _Get back_.”

Negan winced back at him rather derisively, passing Lucille hand to hand. “I don’t think so. I need to keep my guys in the loop.”

“Please.”

“Just spit it out, kid.”

Sighing and shifting, feeling weird and out of place, Carl tried to forget the small crowd behind him as he readied himself, taking a little longer than Negan seemed pleased with. Still, the alpha waited, yet another reminder to Carl that he wasn’t likely to fail.

“Okay…” he said eventually, looking down again to Negan’s legs as he breathed slowly and turned his head to the side, the good side, giving Negan the sight of his good eye, the smooth angle of his face, and the pale column of his neck.

No one said anything for the longest time. Carl wasn’t surprised, he’d never seen this in action before himself, he’d only read a couple articles and heard whispers about it since learning what _it_ was. 

Carl kept his eye down but in his peripheral vision he could see Negan frown and practically feel Rick and Michonne share looks, as well as the silent questions from the others around them. 

He cleared his throat soft enough only for Negan to hear, cheeks burning now as he tried to replicate an age old, international gesture of submission. It was became obvious that he wasn’t doing it very well, and fear of failure made him glance at Negan for some kind of response. When he did and they locked eyes Carl knew he’d been _seen_.

“Holy hell.”

Carl blinked tears away, his heart hammering in humiliation for this to just happen already. Aside from Negan never once bringing up Carl’s biology, why he hadn’t kept Carl locked up in the Sanctuary when Carl had stowed away to kill him was a curious little mystery. Negan certainly seemed like he wanted to—aside from the insults and threats—but all Negan did was make Carl squirm under two dozen salacious flirts, crude remarks and then drive him home and feed him and Judith, a ridiculously domestic thing to do. Negan had a soft side, and Carl was the only one able to capitalise on it.

“Holy _Hell_!” Negan shouted, finally making Carl jump.

“Carl?” Rick called, sounding nervous now.

Negan laughed and Carl turned his head down, reaching over to scratch absently at his arm as his offer finally made headlines.

“Carl!” 

The alpha tone from Rick made Carl turn, but Negan was faster. He grabbed Carl’s jaw and stole his gaze with a low growl. It made Carl feel like a sheet of glass for the first time in a long time.

Negan leaned in closer than was appropriate, holding Carl’s new instincts captive long enough for Carl to barely hear the sound of Rick and Michonne struggling against some of Negan’s men.

“…What the hell are you thinking, kid?” Negan asked softly, loosening his grip and thumbing Carl’s cheek with his thumb.

“I have to.” Carl said, breathing in pure, heady _Alpha_. An alpha he didn’t see as family. An alpha that didn’t see him as family either.

“…When did I ever give you that idea?”

Negan looked genuinely curious, voice low so it was indeed a more private conversation, but the scuffle behind them picked up when Daryl jumped in, fists swinging. 

“Hey!” Negan barked, letting Carl go. “Straighten up, you fucking wild animals!”

“Get away from him!” Rick yelled, struggling viciously against three men. He looked exactly as Negan said, ‘a wild animal’. Carl glanced away briefly in guilt for making his father suffer more shame, but desperate times and all that…

“I swear I will kill you! I will _kill. You_!”

Negan watched Rick with half-hearted focus, twirling his bat around and licking his lips much the same.

“Stop.” Carl said, cringing at the desperate fight his father gave. He grabbed Negan’s arm and squeezed. “Stop.” He begged.

“Enough…” Negan commanded to the tussling group. The Saviours secured back Rick, Michonne and Daryl, shoving Rick and Daryl to their knees. Michonne calmed herself sooner and held her hands up, breathing hard through her nose. 

“Let’s all take a breath.” Negan said, very slowly turning his attention back to Carl. “A deep one. Let the oxygen reach your brain before you push it out.”

“I’m being serious.” Carl growled, letting go of Negan and wringing his offending hand. “Can you be serious for one damn minute?”

“As serious as a fartattack.”

Carl didn’t have the energy to roll his eyes or snap back, his gut was still churning and it was starting to feel a little more one-sided than he would have liked.

“Now, tell me what this is all about.”

“Do I have to explain it?” Carl asked, glowering as best he could with Negan staring down at him like they were the only two people present.

“Actually, yes you do. You can’t just drop this bomb like that and expect me to just roll with it.”

Carl scowled and looked away, trying to block out the angry breathing of his father.

“Caaarl...” Negan nagged.

Carl threw his hands up. “Why not? Why does everything have to be a sing and dance with you?”

“I’m not the one that just put on a display for everyone.”

“For _you_. We don’t have what you need, but I can—I…I can give you something else. In exchange. For leeway. Please.”

“Carl.” Michonne called, closer than before.

“So, just so I got this right…” Negan chuckled, shifting closer with a playful shuffle of his shoulders and a swing of a leg. “…You’re offering…?”

“I’ve met your wives. None of them are like me.”

“No. No, Carl…” Rick started whining. 

“Cut the demand you want from us in half, promise you won’t kill anyone, and I’ll go back with you.” 

“Carl! Carl, dammit! No!”

Negan glanced at Rick with humour all over his face, tongue in cheek he looked back at Carl.

“You’ll come home with me.” He repeated.

Carl nodded, sucking his lips back between his teeth.

“Hhmm…” Negan rubbed his salt and pepper beard. He leaned away from Carl as he considered, pouting his lips and squinting dramatically.

“I’ll join you.” Carl added, looking up from underneath his lashes, hoping it looked as submissive as he knew it should, though Negan probably saw right through it. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“Hell, yeah it is. But I gotta admit, I didn’t see this coming.”

This time Carl rolled his eyes.

“No, for real. I mean, I was impressed. Little badass like you standin’ his ground, fucking shit up; it’s a sight for sore eyes. And I can’t deny making eyes at you, but I honestly didn’t think it landed.”

“It didn’t.” Carl crossed his arms.

Negan was grinning like a loon, sizing Carl up in a brand new way. “I beg to differ.” 

“No. No—” Michonne cut in, just a few steps back now with a Saviour holding her arm.

“This is my choice.” Carl said to her. He glanced back at Rick. “It’s my choice.” He said, louder.

“You don’t have to do this.” Michonne whispered.

“Yes, I do.” He looked back up at Negan. “You can take me back and I’ll stay. I’ll be yours. However you want me. Just no killing people.”

“No. No!” Michonne finally grabbed hold of him and pulled. The Saviour behind her tugged her back but she twisted out of his grasp and stopped in front of Negan who waved Lucille in warning.

“Take me.” She said, _growled_ , holding a hand out between Carl and Negan. 

“No—” Rick piped up, his voice breaking. He was crying.

“No!” Carl shouted. He tried to pull Michonne away but she was stronger and held her ground, looking Negan dead in the eyes.

“I can give you more than he can. He’s just a boy.”

“Damn,” Negan whistled, looking Michonne up and down. “Can you imagine the power couple we’d make if I took you up on that? We’d conquer the whole goddamn world!”

Michonne didn’t react other than to push Carl back.

“No! _I_ have to do this.” Carl insisted, finally getting between Michonne and Negan. She refused to meet his gaze, her big eyes wet and trembling and damn near glaring holes into Negan’s face. Carl pushed on her shoulders, squeezing hard when she refused to yield. His eyes filled but he held the tears back, pushing with all his might until he got her a few feet back. Over her shoulder he noticed his father, held down on his knees, his face the portrait of despair. Carl’s tears fell then, and he whipped back to Negan before he could be interrupted again.

“You can have me. As long as you promise. As long…you can have me.”

“As my _wife_?” Negan clarified, lifting his bat when Michonne jerked forward. 

“…Yes.” Carl flushed. “As long as you—”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard. And do you really think you’re worth that to me?”

Carl’s face grew warmer but he made sure not to look anywhere but at Negan. He nodded just enough to confirm, sure in what he’d gathered from Negan all the times they’d been together. 

“Your wives get something. I should too, extra because—”

“Because you’re a fresh little piece of omega? Oh, Carl, I thought you were above all that baseness.”

“You’re not. You have a dozen wives like we’re back in the dark ages.”

“And yet you want to join the party.”

“Enough.” Michonne hissed, “Carl, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Michonne!” Carl growled, and Negan tapped his arm suddenly with his gloved hand.

“Listen to her, kid. She has a point.”

“No. No, I know what I’m doing. I can do this. For us. For you. _Negan_ ,” Carl brushed his hair back with both hands, his forehead sweaty. His hands were shaking, but he was still on his feet and getting words out so he pushed on. “We can’t keep going like this. One of us needs to stop…my dad can’t. So I will. I have to. I…I _want_ to.”

Negan regarded him for a long while. He ignored Michonne and Rick’s rising voices, staring as if he could see something written across Carl’s forehead.

“…You want to, huh?”

“Yes.”

“ _No_.”

Negan looked at Michonne, straightening up to his full height. She did so too, alpha to alpha. 

“I must’ve pleased someone out there to have two feisty things bickering over me.”

“Negan,” Rick called, voice desperate, cracking and hollow.

Carl and Michonne kept their eyes down while Negan looked over at Rick. Carl didn’t think he could stomach it, hearing his despair was bad enough, and it seemed Michonne felt the same.

“Yeah, Rick?”

“Don’t. Just…just _don’t_ , please. They’re all I…you can’t…” Rick trailed off, head hung and shaking side to side. It was all he could do as two men held him down.

Negan frowned, giving Carl a sideways look as if he had no idea what was wrong with Rick. Carl glared back, dying to shove a knife into Negan.

“That’s not very convincing, Rick.” Negan said with a click of his tongue. Rick looked up with another _no_ on his lips, his arms twisted behind his back, seeming to have lost his strength as he hung in the Saviour’s arms.

Negan groaned loudly then and waved his free hand at Michonne in shooing motion.

“Go on, get back to your boyfriend before he shits his guts out. Such a little bitch, goddamn.”

Michonne shook her head, reaching for Carl. Carl stepped away from her, shaking his head too.

“Carl, don’t do this.” She said, _ordered_ , with as much alpha as she could muster. Carl felt the urge to obey like a punch in the stomach, his respect and love for her was enough even without her alpha command, but still he stayed rooted, gritting his teeth.

“Go back.” He said, gesturing his head at the others. “They need you.”

“They need _you_. We need you, Carl. You don’t have to do this. You _don’t_.”

“All right, that’s enough.” 

Negan stepped forward and shoved the end of his bat into her stomach. She stumbled and he forced her back until she was in front of Rick. Negan gave her a look before turning on his heel and giving a sceptical one to Carl.

“…You’d do this?”

“ _Yes_ , Jesus—”

“Language, baby boy.” Negan walked back up to him and patted his cheek. Carl blushed and turned away from it, but gave Negan his gaze when Negan came to a stop in front of him.

“So, this is what it’s come to. You and me and a deal. Close to what I expected, but with that extra bit of _zing_.” Negan snapped his fingers, grinning stupidly.

Carl rolled his eye. “Yeah. Congratulations. You win.”

“I win.” Negan said, wiping his mouth as if he couldn’t believe it.

“Carl, don’t do this, man.” It was Daryl’s turn to butt in, but someone shut him up with a hit to the back of the head.

Carl swung around to shout but Negan was faster and louder, banging Lucille on the ground and stalking forward towards the perpetrator.

“Do that again and I’ll return the favour!” he barked, lifting the bat.

The Saviour looked sheepish and mumbled an apology. Negan looked at Daryl, then settled on Rick. 

“…You should give the kid more credit. He’s doing a brave thing.”

“He’s a _kid_.” Daryl rasped.

“He’s more of a man than any of you sorry shits. At least he’s willing to actually do what needs to be done to give you all a better life. Can’t say the same for any of you, can I?” Negan looked to Carl with a proud smile. “You keep my faith in humanity, Carl, you truly do.”

“Let’s just do this.”

“Now, hold on, just two darn ticks, cowboy.” Negan walked back and circled Carl, eyeing every inch of him in a way that Carl knew he’d asked for, and was bound to experience more of. 

“I know I seem a big ole manwhore but I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Carl’s faltered. “…What?”

Negan winced comically like a guilty child and shrugged his hefty shoulders. 

“While I appreciate this very, _very_ generous offer, I don’t think it’s in either of our best interest.”

Carl didn’t think he could be more shocked. It must have showed because Negan chuckled and shrugged again. “No offense, kid.”

“…Why?” Carl looked back at his father, at Michonne, at Daryl, at all his friends and family. He grew hot again, humiliation burning through him like acid. “Why not? I’m not a kid, Negan. I can handle myself. You know that. I thought you respected me for that.”

“Heck, yeah, I do. And if you were any older you’d know that me declining _is_ a sign of respect for you.”

“Bullshit. I _know_ , Negan. I know what you want— I’ve seen—”

“I wanna dye my hair too but that doesn’t make it a good idea for anyone.”

“Carl, stop.” Rosita said from somewhere in the crowd.

Negan licked his bottom lip and sighed. 

“Look, I know you’re capable of making your own decisions, Carl, but you really don’t know what you’re asking. What do you know about this?” Negan flicked his finger between the two of them. “What do you _really_ know, huh? Do you even know the first thing about what happens when you put an alpha and an omega together without limits?”

“…I assumed you’d show me.”

“Yeah...no.” 

Carl threw his hands out. “I don’t get it. Why are you—what do you want from me? Must I beg? Huh?!”

Negan grabbed Carl by the shirt. He held the bat up over Carl’s shoulder at everyone who jumped towards them. 

“Calm your tits, you little ungrateful prick.” Negan’s aged features twitched as he took in Carl’s scent, handling it like it was very day he had an omega under his nose. “This isn’t like with your dad and Warrior Princess over there and yeah, my wives are all betas. Why do you think that is?”

“Be…because…”

Negan raised a brow, inclining his ear with a hand.

Carl couldn’t think of the special explanation Negan seemed to be expecting. 

“…I don’t know? There aren’t many of us left.”

“No, there aren’t. But don’t you think if _I_ of all people fancied an omega I’d have one by now?”

Carl shifted as the truth weighed over his shoulders. 

Negan winked and bumped Carl’s chin with his knuckles. “Exactly, sweetstuff. Are we done talking about this? Now, back to business—”

“No.”

Negan paused in his swirl back around. 

“…The fuck d’you say?”

You could hear a pin drop. Carl, on the other hand, couldn’t hear a thing besides his pounding heart.

Negan turned right around again. Michonne was back to trying to get to him, shaking her head vigorously.

“Carl!” Rick shouted.

Negan tilted his head. He frowned, smiled, and then frowned some more.

“Either take it or leave it.” Carl said, his threat barely veiled. The threat was somewhat of a mystery to Carl as much as everyone else, but both he and Negan knew he wasn’t one for _happy_ surprises.

“For real? Are you busting my balls?”

“Carl, shut up.” Daryl grunted, “He ain’t worth it. He ain’t that kind of alpha.”

“And what alpha is that?” Negan shouted, lifting his hands in question. “Pray-fucking-tell!” 

He aimed Lucille at Carl when no one answered.

“Do you wanna know why all my wives are betas? You wanna know? Because they’re not baby-factories. Pop them a pill twice a month, and you’re good to go. But _you_ little fuckers, oh boy, oh _boy_! You need a whole pharmacy to keep you from getting knocked up. Do you even realise what would happen the second an alpha busts a nut in your little pussy? Do you?”

Carl burnt red to the roots of his hair, head to toe, but Negan gave him no inch, marching up in his face and towering over him like he always did when he wanted people to cower. Carl held his ground like a statue.

“You’d be crammed up full of whiny, little _problems_. How Judith survived this long with _that prick_ for a father is beyond me. It is tough shit having kids around during the apocalypse. It’s tough just having grown ass men around! Now you tell me why in the hell I’d want a dozen bitches around repopulating like it’s a Baby Boomer revamp?”

The tears finally fell despite Carl’s best efforts to mimic a bloodless stone. Carl swallowed down every sound, squeezed away every urge, but every fluttering blink spilt more tears down his face. The hair on the back of his neck stood and his stomach ached something terrible. His instinct screamed up at him about the alpha screaming down at him, urging him to make himself smaller in a way so foreign to him that it only made him angrier at Negan because of course Negan would be the asshole to bring out these feelings in him. He fought it with every fibre of his being until his nails dug painfully into the palms of his hands. 

Negan, on the other hand, looked furious, snarling down at Carl as he had done so many times with Rick.

“Negan, let’s talk about this…” Michonne said, trying to edge forward around the extra Saviours that had circled them.

“Is that what you want, Carl? Because I’m trying to save you from that. You’re too good to be hauled up at the Sanctuary, eating for two. Or three. For you I see more than that. But if you don’t, well…I guess I gotta find a new damn pharmacy for my new damn wife.”

Carl faltered as Negan started towards him. “That’s not—I wasn’t—”

“Rick! Didn’t you teach this kid anything?” Negan brushed past Carl, past his Saviours and Michonne and stood over Rick, banging on his chest with Lucille. “You setting an example for him or something? Using Judith to train him into the family way? Dick move, Grimes. Dick. _Move_.”

“Fuck you.” Rick spat.

“Yeah, and he’s starting to convince me.”

Rick lurched but the Saviours held him in time. Negan laughed, whooping and swinging his bat as he made his way back to Carl, a dozen murderous eyes on him. But what was new? Negan loved pissing people off in the worst ways.

“Your dad’s an asshole. If you were my kid, I’d do everything in my power to make sure that _this shit_ right here? _Never. Happens_. What kind of alpha can’t run his shit to the point his omegas go running off, offering deals with the Big Bad Wolf? A shitty one.” He shot Daryl a look first, and then passed it around to everyone else brave enough to look him in the face.

“This isn’t his fault.” Carl said, softer than intended and unable to look in his father’s direction. Everything made a one-eighty. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

Negan put a hand on the teen’s shoulder, gentler too than expected, and squeezed—almost like he _actually_ cared. Carl hated that Negan probably did, only in his twisted, fucked up ways. And Carl absolutely _hated_ that it was enough for him to hope more of Negan.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.” Negan said, dancing his fingers over Carl’s shoulder, gripping tighter when Carl made to fidget away. “First rule of life, kid. Omegas don’t offer, they accept offers. You wait for the best to come to you, which is a good motto in general, really. But…” Negan trailed off into laughter, finally removing his hand only to point a finger in Carl’s face. 

“I think I see what’s going on here. This isn’t about food or your little pack, is it? Nah… I guess I can’t blame ya, I’d want a better alpha lookin’ after me too—”

“That’s not it! Shut up!”

“Ain’t no shame in growin’ up, Carl. If this is a cry for help then I hear you, loud and clear. Can’t blame you for wanting a proper daddy.”

“SHUT UP!”

Carl shoved Negan from behind. Negan stumbled just enough for Carl to feel a semblance of triumph, but it didn’t make near the effect his anger needed it too. Negan was tall and solid and regained his footing without much of a problem, stopping and shaking his head with a low, dangerous chuckle.

“You’re the asshole.” Carl spat.

“And you’re getting on my last nerve.”

Carl wasn’t sure what to think when Negan tossed Lucille at one of his Saviours, and he sure as hell didn’t have time to think on it as Negan swung around and grabbed him by the arm. Negan yanked him close, plastered a hand to the back of his neck, and squeezed tight.

“Happy?” Negan asked, back to angry—not that Carl didn’t see _that_ coming.

Carl struggled against him, enveloped by more powerful alpha scent than he knew what to do with. He stubbornly kept his gaze low, trying to dislodge Negan’s hand, but all it took was one more squeeze and his legs buckled out from under him. It felt like Negan had found his off switch, and if Carl wasn’t so ready to die he might’ve let out a panicked whimper.

“Aaaand that’s how you shut ‘em up!” Negan announced so loudly it seemed to be to the world. He held Carl upright before he could actually drop, his hands big and warm and _rough_ , enveloping Carl’s neck and arm like they were nothing.

“Let him go!” Rick shouted, struggling again.

“Rick, I’d keep that trap shut if I were you. Once again you’ve proven to be one hell of a useless leader! Your boy is here just _begging_ for my knot right in front of you! And it’s more than obvious you had no idea he was scheming this.” 

Carl clenched his eye shut in shame, his body alight in ways he’d never felt before, even during the heat. If he wasn’t so humiliated by Negan’s words he might’ve been turned on by the grip on his neck, its effects uprooting the walls he’d built up into the hard exterior he had today in ways he wasn’t used to.

“Jesus H. Christ, Rick, if you can’t even keep your bitches in line how the hell do you expect to command the rest? If he was mine, I can guarantee you this bullshit wouldn’t even be a thought in his pretty little head. No sirree.”

“You know that’s not true! You heard him!” 

“Yeah, and I can smell him.” Negan dipped his nose in Carl’s hair and took a big, silly sniff. “Yep, kid’s gagging for it.”

“He’s just trying to help.” Michonne said, her voice shaking. Carl struggled to keep his eye open and focus on her, it felt like if Negan squeezed any harder he’d go entirely limp. “He’s trying to make peace! _He’s trying to make peace_. He doesn’t deserve this. Let him go.”

“S’that true, sweetheart?” Negan asked Carl, lifting Carl’s pink face for everyone to see. Carl kept his eye shut, biting his bottom lip. “You _really_ want that? Want us all to play big happy family?”

As childish as Negan described it, it was true. Carl couldn’t find his voice, it was somewhere between Negan’s thick fingers in the back of his throat, so he nodded, trying again to pull out of Negan’s hold as his body sobered from the primal grip.

“Couldn’t convince me otherwise, hey? Had to resort to this…” 

Carl gasped in air as Negan released him. Negan held onto his arm just long enough so Carl could keep on his feet to stand on his own. He rubbed the back of his neck, still trembling through the anaesthetic effects of the hold. He’d never been held like that by an alpha, and he sure as shit never realised how debilitating it was. Negan was right, what did he actually know about this stuff? They’d assumed he was beta, he’d never had the talk, even after presenting, other than what heats were.

“You did this.” Daryl said, “It’s your damn fault he’s doing this. Not ours.”

Negan didn’t respond, for once. He didn’t look back at Daryl, or Rick, and Carl almost wished he would, because the look of disappointment on Negan’s face was hard to bear—not to mention it was dangerous. Negan did not like to be disappointed, especially by weak people. And that’s exactly what Carl was presenting despite his efforts. This wasn’t what he’d planned for.

“So it’s my fault.” Negan said—asked?

“It’s both your faults.” Carl said before anyone else could speak. Negan raised a brow. Carl swallowed and dropped his hands from his neck, taking a deep breath and trying to look respectable again, if it was still possible. He scowled at Negan for good measure. “I’m sorry that I give the slightest shit about you to do this.”

Negan ground his jaw, his face blanked out in thought. 

“I didn’t want anyone else to die. Including you. But I guess I was wrong. I guess I should just kill you. Is _that_ what _you_ want?”

Negan held a hand up and took a calculated step towards him. “So…you were going to sacrifice your freedom, your future, to me, _for_ me?”

“For everyone, you dickbag. Where is the fighting getting us? I’m sick of watching you and my dad tearing each other apart. Neither of you are right and I’m the only one willing to try make this work!”

“…You’re right.” Negan said after a moment, face drawing into a familiar, comforting smile. He took Carl’s chin between his thumb and fingers, tilting his face up. “You’re actually right, kid.”

“I know I am.” Carl said as he pushed Negan’s hand off, but Negan just grabbed him by the side of the neck, grinning like a maniac.

“The world needs more people like you. As a matter of fact maybe that should be my next project.”

“What?”

“Rounding up omegas. You make damn good peace keeping negotiators.”

“You just humiliated me.” Carl hissed softly, so it was just between them. 

Negan leaned in, cupping the other side of his neck so they were almost nose to nose. For a moment Carl thought Negan was going to plant a big wet one on him.

“Baby…” Negan breathed, looking at him far too intimately for Carl _not_ to expect a kiss. “I humiliate everyone. I have to figure out what your angle is. Don’t want whatever’s lurking in this little dark mind’a yours bitin’ me in the ass later.”

“It’s not that complicated. Just _stop_.”

“Think your dad is on board?” Negan asked so their words just for the two of them. Negan tilted his head in Rick’s direction, staring Carl in the eye while his fingers began to do magical things to the back of Carl’s neck. “I gotta say, you’re kinda convincing me, but judging by that growling, I don’t think he shares the sentiment.”

Carl glanced reluctantly at his father. Negan was right, again. Carl swallowed and looked back at Negan.

“It’s not his choice.”

“You’re still his. You wanna do this old school, peace and union through marriage, then you gotta understand that you’re still his. As surprised as I am he _did_ get you this far, with a few scrapes—” his eyes flickered over Carl’s bandage, “and I give respect where it’s due. He’s your alpha, Carl, he’s gotta give you up to me.”

“You’re such an asshole.” Carl said angrily, the fury getting lost in the whisper and Negan’s amused expression. He grabbed onto Negan’s jacket and pulled to get his point across. “He _won’t_ and you know it! Stop looking for a fight!”

“Alpha’s fight, it’s what we’re made to do, darling. That’s why we need an omega around, keep us from getting too hopped up on all that alpha pheromone.”

“Then just take me and end this! Respect my choice! You respected me before, why not now?”

“I do respect you. I think you’re brave as shit for bringing this up—”

“Don’t patronise me. I’m not a little kid or one of your stupid Saviours.”

“Jesus, kid, could I speak, please? This is—” He looked up at their audience, frowning at their presence for the first time. He straightened up and slid a hand back around Carl’s neck. He didn’t squeeze this time, he just led Carl a few metres away from prying eyes and ears. He lifted a hand up, pulling an irritated face at the people who shouted, as if he was taking Carl to the noose.

“…Look. I do respect your choice, I respect you a whole lot and you know it. If I didn’t, I’d put Lucille on the line bettin’ that you wouldn’t have offered yourself up like this. We both know I am an asshole, but also that I’m becoming _your_ asshole. Don’t tell no one.”

Carl pulled his lips, nodding—at the first part. He only had the balls to try this because he knew he was damn near the only one Negan respected enough to take a moment and consider. And while it had taken a dirt road to get here rather than smooth sailing, he’d still arrived. 

“I have to be hard on you, Carl. It’s a tough world and if you don’t watch out for yourself, it’ll _literally_ eat you. It just pisses me off that you have to do this to protect a fuckin’ alpha who has the gall to call himself your father.”

“Could you stop getting offended on my behalf? I’m fine with this.”

Negan smiled. He swayed side to side, looking ridiculously bashful as he leaned over to speak even softer, right against Carl’s ear. 

“Are you really? Because the more we’re here debating the more I’m not hating your offer. Last time I screwed an omega I was young enough to screw her three times in one hour and still get up to fix dinner. Consequentially, we had spaghetti.”

Carl punched Negan in the ribs. He was shaking with embarrassment and rising omegan hormones from Negan’s proximity but it was enough to make Negan grunt and cover his abdomen with his hands, laughing softly.

“There’s my little serial killer.”

“Do we have a deal or not?”

“Carl,” Negan said, tilting his head back on his shoulders. 

“I thought you _liked_ me…” Carl hinted, popping his brows as if to say _you know what I mean_. He gave Negan a stern look, a _don’t you play with me_ glare with a pout of his lips that drew a successful glance.

Negan tongued around his mouth, the gears in his head turning more than Carl thought they should. Negan was overthinking this when he should’ve just jumped at it like the greedy bastard he was. 

“Was I wrong?” he asked, folding his arms on his chest.

Negan stilled, taking his sweet time to shake his head like it pained him. 

When he did nothing else Carl opened his mouth with an impatient scowl at the ready, but Negan quickly shushed him. 

“ _Listen_. If we do this, you’re mine. It’s till death do us part. No second thoughts—and that ain’t even _my_ rules. That’s what the Almighty God decided. My wives can leave if they want, the only thing keeping them there is themselves. But you ain’t gonna have that choice, Carl. Once I mark you, that’s it, end of story. And unless we get you some fucking military grade birth control you’re gonna have a bun in the oven before I even knot you.”

“Do you have to talk like that?” Carl looked away, flushing, but without anyone else to hear the vulgarity it settled easier in his gut where it simmered. The idea of Negan claiming him and knocking him up made him eager in the sickest ways, reminding him there was something very wrong with him. He was pretty sure it wasn’t entirely blind attraction when it came to the whole omega and alpha thing—getting hot for Negan was his own personal, fucked up trait. No one in their right mind would ask for this. 

_Unless they had something to gain_ , he had to remind himself. He’d met the _Wives_. None of them looked particularly insane, all just trying to make it by as best they could. It was a life brought on by desperation, a _close your eyes and pretend you’re far away_ desperation. Carl felt a new kind of numb knowing deep down that he probably wasn’t going to feel that, not like a normal person would. He wasn’t even a normal omega. He wasn’t normal at all.

“I most certainly do because I need to make sure that you understand what you’re agreeing to. Beating around the bush never helped anyone.”

“I get it, okay? You’re so alpha I’m probably pregnant just from you touching me.”

“Do you mind me touching you?”

“Wh—no, I—” No, he didn’t, and he hadn’t entirely realised it until Negan asked. At least he’d never confessed it.

“Sure sure?” Negan ran his hands down Carl’s arms, slipping them back over and onto his waist. Carl leaned back but didn’t try to remove himself, and kept his gaze down. Negan towered over him, keeping him from everyone’s view. Carl was grateful for it; he was pretty sure any time now his dad was going to chew off his limbs to get loose.

“Yes.” He nodded, enduring a fresh wave of shivers when Negan traced a hand up his belly, the other settled on his hips.

“Do you _like_ it?” 

Carl scowled weakly, but his brows quickly broke apart as a silent gasp took over when Negan ran the hand back down his stomach, stopping just before the zip of Carl’s ragged jeans.

“Stop it...”

“Not very convincing.” Negan nuzzled Carl’s hair as he teased the waist of Carl’s jeans through his shirt, tugging on it with a squeeze to his hip every few moments.

Carl squirmed. “Not in front of them.”

“Screw them. I want to hear you. Whisper it to me, baby.”

Carl made an aborted sound in the back of his throat as Negan’s fingers found their way beneath his shirt, stroking his belly in a mockery of kindness and innocence like Carl was a cat Negan adored.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Tell daddy if you like it.”

“I—I like it, okay?” Carl got out with some struggle, trying not to look suspicious with all the eyes straining behind Negan. 

“A bit better.” Negan stop tormenting his stomach and pulled his hands up to cup Carl’s neck again. He forced eye contact. “You gonna be okay with being my wife? You given this some thought or are you just flying in Gung-ho?”

“As long as you stick to your end of the deal.”

“No regrets? Cause I don’t want you to resent me in two years’ time when you’re saddled with kids while I go out getting shit done. You seem to handle Judith just fine but you’re still young yet for kiddies. I know I’m good with them, but they’re a lot of work.”

“I thought you said we’ll get birth control?”

“Carl, we can barely find food on a good day, where the fuck are we supposed to just find birth control for you, not to mention suppressants for your goddamn heats. I’m already creating myself stress just by considering this, and it’s only because it’s _you_. We’re both gonna have to make sacrifices, got it?”

Carl nodded minutely, giving Negan the stink eye to the best of his ability. Negan winked in response.

“Relax, I ain’t planning on any kids. We’ll figure it out. By the way, now that we’re on this topic…I didn’t wanna ask before and make you feel shitty, but, ah, how have you been handling your heats? It’s down right mind boggling thinkin’ of carting an omega around out there with them going into heat every other day. We got two older gals and its tough enough just keeping them indoors during that shit. I can only imagine it on the road.”

“It—I presented late. I’ve only had two heats since.”

“Whoa. That’s it? When did you present, a couple months ago?”

Carl nodded and Negan whistled, nodding back with a smile. “Late bloomer. Now I get how you’re still alive.”

“We were already here when I presented. It was safe. I had a room to wait it out.”

“Lucky, lucky, _lucky_.” Negan grinned, eyes brimming and sparking like a kid at Christmas. Carl found himself talking before he could stop himself. It wasn’t fucking _luck_.

“Michonne and I were nearly raped before we got here.”

Negan’s smile dropped substantially. Carl cringed at the uncomfortable tinge that shot through him, but as horrid as those memories were they were also some of his most influential.

“By who?”

“These…these guys. This—they called themselves the Claimers. We think it’s why I presented all of a sudden, didn’t seem like it was gonna happen. Until that. Guess it jump started me…”

Negan thumbed Carl’s cheeks, searching his face. “The Claimers, huh? They had a leader?”

“Joe.”

“Ah huh… Any idea where he is now?”

“Dad bit his throat out.”

“ _Holy motherfucking shit_!” Negan let go of him, holding his hands up like a puppet and flicking them out. “You could’a told me that before I put my goddamn hands all over you.”

Carl shushed him and glanced back, glad to see at least everyone was calmer than before, his people and Negan’s alike, if only curious about their private conversation.

“Did he have that manbush at the time? Good Lordy, that must have been terrifying. Huh. I kinda like that story. The ending,” Negan clarified. “I like hearing he did that for you. Did he make it in time? Or do I need to flip my shit and give you a big apology on behalf of men everywhere?”

Carl shook his head, enjoying the response from Negan. Rick was his father and a good leader, and he deserved all the respect in the world.

“Good.” Negan rubbed his arm, _spreading his scent_ on Carl. “Good...”

Carl let him; the more Negan was attached to him the more he could (hopefully) manipulate him.

“But I remember how it feels, what they did to us—what they were going to do... I don’t feel that with you. I wouldn’t do this if I did.”

Negan nodded slowly, licking his bottom lip, eyes far away, probably fantasising about Rick tearing someone’s throat out with his teeth. Carl lifted his chin, hoping that was the case while ignoring the notion that he’d just protected his alpha’s reputation. It was painfully dampened though by the fact that he was offering himself up to Negan in the most intimate ways, even if it was to save his people. He was still submitting to his father’s enemy. He’d just planned to do this with more dignity seeing as Negan was bizarrely smitten with him. He’d known it wasn’t because he was omega that Negan liked him, Negan would’ve made that painfully clear a long time ago, but he shouldn’t have thought Negan would’ve been manipulated as easily by it as he’d hoped. Maybe it just took a seasoned omega to know how to get into an alpha’s head, he wasn’t exactly practiced.

“…Right?”

“Huh?”

“You wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to, right?”

Negan frowned for a moment and then chuckled, curling a lock of Carl’s hair behind his ear, caressing it a second longer than needed. “Baby boy, you’ll never _not_ want my dick in you after I’ve shown you what it means to be my wife.”

Carl shoved his hand away and covered his face, groaning with embarrassment all the while Negan cackled and hugged him around the shoulder with one arm, and led them back towards the others.

“So, last chance. You want this? Tying the proverbial _and_ literal knot with me?”

“ _Yes_ , God…”

“All right then, sweetstuff. I gotcha.”

Negan led them back with such pomposity that Carl wanted to punch him again. He struggled not to look as uncomfortable under Negan’s arm as he felt. He didn’t want these Saviour bastards thinking Negan talked him into it. It was humiliating enough that he was going to make a bond with his father’s enemy, he didn’t need Negan’s men taunting them for it. Once he was in though he was fairly certain he could convince Negan to break their fingers for disrespecting him. Negan broke more for less.

“Carl and I have come to an agreement. Rick, it’s time we have ours.”

“No. Not this way.” Rick said, sounding surer than he had any power to be.

Negan shrugged and nodded towards Carl as if to say _don’t speak to me, speak to him_. He spoke anyway when Carl fidgeted.

“Ugh, I get it. You’re his father, and despite my opinion you did a decent job of getting him this far in life. But I’ll get him farther. I’ll look after him, you know I will. I got a soft spot for this little shit that none of us can understand so you know I’ll look after him. I swear. Alpha to alpha. Cross my heart.”

“You don’t get it.” Rick growled, “I don’t want you touching my son, even if it means he has to die.”

Negan hummed and looked at Carl. “See? And you want me to marry into this? I like the simple things in life like talking, and _swallowing_.”

“Dad, just say yes. This will end, all you have to do is say yes. Please, just say it.”

“Carl, I can’t. I can’t. I won’t.”

Carl grit his teeth, shaking his head back at his father.

“Dad, please—”

“It’s _Negan_! I’d rather you die. _I’d_ rather die!”

“And what about what I want?! I don’t want that! I want you and Judith and Michonne and everyone to live! Happily! Safe! And if we say yes, that will happen! Help me do that, dad!”

And the tears were back in full force. Negan let him go in his little rant, getting Lucille back and clasping his hands in front of himself as if at a funeral paying his respects.

“Carl,” Rick’s voice broke. His eyes, forever red and wet with pain, strained along with his body. He got up to his feet, Negan nodding for the men to allow him that. As an afterthought he gestured for them to let Rick go, and Rick ripped out of their grip to grab Carl and pull him to his chest.

“Don’t ask me to, Carl. It’ll kill me.”

“You have to let me do this.”

Rick hugged Carl like he’d never hug him again, and that might be the case, worst case. Carl hugged him back, letting Rick breathe him in in a way they hadn’t in a while.

After a long moment of devastated silence and people sniffling as though Carl had just been sentenced to death, Rick looked over Carl’s head with Carl tucked under his chin.

“He’s my boy,” he whispered, the first truly gentle words he’d ever said to Negan.

Negan said nothing in return, and when Carl twisted to look at him he was relieved to see Negan wasn’t wearing a grin or a smirk, but a quiet respect that was rare but not unknown to him. 

Rick wiped his face when he released Carl, angling himself between them. They all noticed Negan’s fist clenching around the bat, but he let Rick get close without tensing anything else.

“…How can I trust you to do that? What’s stopping you from hurting him? From _them_ —” he pointed at the Saviours, “hurting him. Why should I take that chance after everything?”

“I made myself pretty clear on where I stand hurting women and omegas.”

“There are a thousand ways to hurt him that aren’t physical.”

“Do you want me to put it in writing?”

“Dad,” Carl took his father’s hand, tugging for his attention. When Rick deigned to obey and look at him Carl nodded, squeezing his hand. “S’okay.”

“Rick,” 

This time it was Michonne. They looked at her. She glared at the Saviours around her and pushed past them with Negan’s inconspicuous nod.

“There _should_ be a written contract.”

Rick just started shaking his head again.

“Rick, if Carl is going to do this, it should be in writing. Carl will do this with or without your permission. All we can do is negotiate.”

Carl nodded, looking up hopefully between the three alphas.

“I agree.” Negan said, giving Rick a shrug. “It’ll draw a fine line we can all stick to. No more problems. Carl can consider it a job well done.”

“I’m doing this.” Carl said, squeezing Rick almost too tight. “Let me.”

Rick was silent for the longest time. Carl was afraid he was going to tackle Negan, the tension was stifling even in the cool afternoon air. Then Rick squeezed his hand back, red eyes on Negan.

“…Negotiations take place here. You got that?”

Negan winked. “I’ll make dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact I’ve never used the ‘pill’, I prefer the 3month injection in the butt cheek. So in this world general birth control is only needed twice a month, though I know that isn’t right. But what does that matter when we’re writing freaking Omegaverse, biology is in the gutter. 
> 
> I kind of want to write a second part, where the bond is sealed and Carl has to live his role. I mean, you know Negan is going to make Gabriel officiate the marriage just to embarrass Coral, make Daryl or Dwight Carl’s best man when Rick refuses to do more than he has to—which is a lot, I mean, giving over your son to Negan has to be hard as shite. Also Carl learning all the tricks of the trade of being an omega and manipulating the crap out of Negan to the point Negan is throwing a tantrum but can’t do shit about it sounds magnificent. Hopefully my depression will allow it, hard to write anything these days.
> 
> If anyone has ideas to add in that might tickle your fancy if you want to stick around for a second chapter feel free to comment and if it syncs with my brain I’ll add it. I don’t want to make a whole fic out of this as im TRYING to write an _actual_ fantasy/adventure novel so I shouldn’t be writing FF (though I need to finish another FF of mine…), but I’m thinking just one or two more big ass chapters for any lingering ideas. Lemme know~


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has turned into a full length fic. Fuck my life and fuck all of you. I estimate about 70 000 +- words so strap in and get the pompoms ready. Also the story did not go in the initial direction I thought it would, but sometimes the story writes itself and you’re just there to steer around rocks. 
> 
> I hereby dedicate this to LittleMissGriff because she’s a doll and I adore her and her words as much as she adores me and my work. And SUPER THANK YOU to everyone who has sent in their support, hopefully you’ll have fun reading this as I had fun writing it! 
> 
> If anything about this theme makes you uncomfortable, especially the omegaverse stuff, maybe don’t read? Because this goes all the way, if you catch my drift, circle of life. Spoiler without context, figure it out. Bam. (but shhh)
> 
>  
> 
> _I apologise for errors_

Rick was tiring.

“Carl, _listen_ to me—”

Carl tried to turn deaf instead. 

It didn’t work, but focusing on something else, _anything else_ , did help cloud out his father’s ramblings. He missed enough to what Rick said to be able to keep his cool, packing his things in an orderly fashion into a backpack. It wasn’t easy, but he tuned his father out just enough to remain as numb as he liked to feel. The whole point of being numb was to escape the pain.

But Carl forgets; he’s stubborn because his father is stubborn, he had to have got it from somewhere, and he remembered his mom had been pretty compliant compared to them. She knew when to yield for the better, a decent peace keeper— _like him_ , as per Negan’s opinion. Carl liked to think he was though, he wasn’t going to be like Negan, or his father, someone had to know when to meet in the middle without using a knife to do it. He’d probably do this even if he wasn’t an omega (or maybe he just hoped so). But the fact was that he _was_ an omega, and while he sometimes forgot that his mother had been one, he sometimes wished she was still around to explain it to him gently and calmly, not with quick, anxious facts the way that Rick gave him, or the lewd images Negan painted. She would’ve got it right, she would’ve understood, she would’ve…

Would she have done _this_ ….? Of course she would have, if it meant saving her family. She _had_ done it. Shane had been her Negan. Shane wasn’t like Negan, no one was, but the comparison was enough. It sure was enough to Rick who was doing everything but physically restraining him, no doubt feeling the loss and betrayal of his loved one to another man. And while that wasn’t the same either, it was still close enough to hurt them both.

“Carl, dammit, listen to me!”

“Rick!” Michonne pulled him away from Carl, her bottom lip trembling. “Stop.”

“He can’t.” Rick said, his voice so small and lost that it made Carl feel physically ill. Still, he ignored them, grouping his meagre belongings in preparation of his departure. Negan was due to fetch him today, and the faster they leaved the better. _Like a band-aid_ , Negan had advised after one of their negotiation meetings, standing on the porch with Carl and Judith, Rick glaring out from a slit in the curtain. Carl agreed, but he really just wanted to keep the Saviours away from his family. He could handle saying goodbye. Emotions were mendable for the most part, dead bodies weren’t.

“We’ve been over this.” Michonne said, firm and non-negotiable. She rubbed Rick’s arms, trying her best to calm him as he fidgeted wildly.

“He can’t.” Rick just repeated. It was as if this was all just dawning on him for the first time all over again.

Carl couldn’t what? He couldn’t do this, make a bond with Negan? Or he couldn’t do this, meaning he couldn’t choose Negan over Rick? Both situations sounded ugly and he embraced it as such on purpose. He was breaking his father’s heart, he _shouldn’t_ , but he could, and he would. Or maybe Rick meant Negan, that Negan couldn’t do this to them, tear their family apart. Carl wasn’t sure. Maybe it was all of it and more, he couldn’t think too well right now with all the mixed pheromones clogging up the house.

“We’ve been over this.” Michonne repeated too, keeping Rick’s eyes on her with a fierce focus, breathing deeply and pointedly until he began to mimic. Carl started shoving his things away faster while Michonne kept Rick distracted, but as soon as he was done Judith started crying from the other room. He zipped up the back so fast he got a piece of skin caught up, but he grit the sting away and dropped the bag in favour of dashing around his parents and out the room.

“I got it.” Enid said, almost crashing into him as she raced up the stairs.

“It’s fine.” He said, rushing before her.

Enid slowed but still followed him, watching as he picked Judith up from her crib and cradled her. Judith’s cries softened as she pawed at him, but even she had noticed the atmosphere in the air, a tension different to the norm.

“…Carl.”

Carl sighed and kept his eye on Judith, brushing his fingers across her cheeks. 

“We can run away.”

Carl looked at Enid, trying not to frown.

“I’ll go with you.” She said, glancing into the hallway as if someone might over hear. If someone did it wouldn’t matter, Rick had already offered that. Everyone had, like Carl needed saving. He knew it came from a good place, but he didn’t want it.

“One of his wives already tried that. He caught them, and he burned her husband’s face off for it.”

Enid swallowed but pouted defiantly, giving a small shrug. “You’re not one of them yet.”

“I already signed the papers.”

“But he hasn’t—you aren’t—” Enid shrugged harder, looking around irritably. Carl just sighed again—he was going to burst if he had to handle anymore emotions that weren’t his.

“You haven’t _done it_.” She said, softer, glancing over her shoulder again. “It’s just papers.”

“No, it’s not.” Carl scowled, bouncing Judith when she fussed. “I can’t backstab Negan and not expect him to do the same. I made a promise. If I stick to it, he’ll stick to it.”

“You don’t know that.”

Carl shook his head slowly, nodding as an afterthought. “Yeah. But then he can’t pull a fit when I kill him.”

Enid crossed her arms and shook her head. Carl wished he could do that, be a fussy, impudent teenager. He didn’t have that luxury, he never really had, and now he was a wife, an omega, he had to play the part he agreed to. 

Enid left with nothing else to say. Carl swayed Judith, taking in her soft scent, and letting her do the same to him. He thumbed her cheeks, ruffled her hair and kissed her face. The contract allowed for Carl to visit Alexandria, but only after a good three months. Rick had pulled his own fit, and Carl added his two cents against that, but Negan wanted them joined at the hip before Carl came back here and decided to change his mind about their situation. Negan won the argument only because Carl let him, he had to pick his battles. He could take three months. He’d taken worse.

The contract was a fairly simple one seeing as none of them were lawyers. Michonne scribed while Rick and Negan went at it at either ends of the table, giving and taking, with Carl between them scratching his initials into the table with a butter knife, using it to make a noise whenever the alphas became ridiculous in their demands. It took five meetings for them to sort through everything in a calm manner, the first three meetings including people from both their sides to make sure no one started a brawl. It was Rick who needed the watching, he couldn’t have been more upset if you told him said Negan could resurrect the dead, but Rick got to the last meeting without upsetting Negan to the point of Lucille getting involved. Carl was grateful, more so when Negan didn’t make them go over in detail what Carl would be expected to do.

“ _Listen. Obey. Compromise_.” Negan listed plainly, shrugging like it was no big deal. Carl sat wound tighter than a sling when it got around to _that_ area. The whole wife thing. Rick was green, leg bouncing all the while Negan leaned back and grinned, eyes twinkling for all the wrong reasons. It _could_ have been a real turn on, Negan _was_ a handsome man. On the outside. 

“ _That’s it_.” Negan had said as his eyes flickered between Rick and Carl like it was all a joke. 

Rick couldn’t even snap at him he was so mad, gritting his teeth and blinking repeating as he dug his nails into his palms, rocking slowly back and forth in his seat.

“ _That’s it_?” Michonne asked in his stead, pen still against the page.

“ _What more could I ask for_?”

Carl was very grateful. Everything they knew he would have to do was hidden in those three words. If Negan said jump, he had to listen. If Negan said jump off a step he had to obey. If Negan said jump off a building, Carl had to man up and voice his disagreement. It was a cleaner analogy than what was going through their heads, but it was the gist of it. He had to listen and obey like a good little wife, but Negan was vocal about having a _willing_ wife. Carl had to promise to let Negan know when he was not on board with something, but still try to see Negan’s side of it. Rick scoffed, and so did Carl, but Carl was not going to refuse small mercies. He knew Negan would honour his opinion, but he didn’t have the stomach to convince his father that _dad I promise Negan won’t fuck me unless I want it_. 

Rick and Michonne signed as Carl’s parents and as his previous alphas, and Negan signed as his new alpha, and husband. Gabriel was brought in to sign as a witness and give Carl the quickest, most awkward wedding in history. He would’ve rather been mauled by a walker than having to stand in the backyard with his one hand in Negan’s, engulfed in a way that promised wicked things, and say his _I do_ es as if they were in love. He _almost_ wished it was like with Maggie and Glenn, but it wasn’t. It never would be.

No one else was invited to their little wedding, Carl swore to violence otherwise, and Negan relented with a carefree laugh, touching his hair as if this wasn’t what it was. Gabriel went through the motions professionally, cutting to the chase and smiling at Carl with the kind of smile Carl needed—one void of pity and pain. He said that through God we find our strength, and we need only ask for it whenever we need it. Negan murmured an _amen_ , twiddling Carl’s fingers in his own, and Carl nodded, determined to start this off with dignity, even with his cheeks a telling red.

Negan didn’t kiss him, though Carl was sure for a moment there Negan had seriously considered it, tonguing his bottom lip and staring down at Carl like he was a packet of Bolognese sauce. When Gabriel pronounced them married Negan whooped and lifted their hands, looking at Rick and Michonne as if he would find happiness to share. All he got were cold glares but it didn’t dampen his mood. He winked at Carl and squeezed his hand, and that was it. They were married.

Carl didn’t push it, he left it at that with a silent thanks. Negan didn’t specify sex as a qualification for being married, but it made Carl wonder about the Wives. Did Negan fuck them before tying the knot, a sort of insurance policy or test run, or was this the norm? He had a feeling he was being pandered through this, and it was either because of his age or his ABO status. He _was_ grateful for the kindness, but he didn’t want to be misled either. If Negan was going to grab him by the hair and pry his legs apart the second they were alone he didn’t want all this niceness. Even when Rick wasn’t privy to their conversations, like out on the porch every night after negotiations, Negan didn’t taunt him about the intimacies of their deal. It was annoying, but it could also just be his father’s anxiety rubbing off onto him—another reason why he needed to leave as soon as possible.

Ironically, Negan took his time to arrive, giving Carl long, painful hours to say goodbye. Rick was full of last minute reminders. 

“ _Don’t let him bully you._ ”

“ _Don’t forget who you are._ ”

“ _If you don’t want to do something, speak up. Whatever it is._ ”

“ _He can’t control you, Carl._ ”

“ _The second you’re done, come home. We’ll figure it out._ ”

There were a dozen more than Carl blocked out, but those made it through. He nodded, never once making eye contact with his father, but he couldn’t help slipping up with Michonne when she gave him her last hug. She smiled, lips drawn tight, but she patted his back hard like he was more than a thread ready to unravel, and he appreciated the confidence. 

 

“You sure you don’t want to take Judith?” Negan asked when he threw Carl’s bag into the truck.

Carl hated how observant Negan could be, or how obvious he was being, he wasn’t sure which it was. He shook his head, tearing his eyes away from his sister. She cried for him, reaching and wriggling angrily in Rick’s arms. Carl put her there purposely, forcing his father to resign to a complicit state as the moment of truth came around. 

“I don’t mind.” Negan added, chuckling.

“You’re only getting one of us.” Carl snapped, hopping into the truck and sliding in next to Simon who sat at the wheel, picking his teeth.

“All right.”

Carl watched his father in the rear view mirror as they drove off, promising to come back in three months with a better attitude. He was just too wound up right now to even dare open the emotional dam. He couldn’t let one tear lose until he was alone, neither Rick nor Negan would react well to it. The tense hugs would just have to do for now.

“Don’t look so sour. You’re gonna get a real bed to sleep in tonight.”

Carl didn’t respond to Negan, or the smirk Simon hid out the window.

 

The Sanctuary was as he remembered it, bleak and metallic, and though he hated to admit it, running like an old river. Everyone was stationed somewhere and doing their job, most of them wrapping up as the afternoon fell. Negan was in high spirits as they got out the truck, allowing all the curious eyes that followed them all the way into their new home. Carl pretended not to notice, following Negan silently. 

Negan took him straight to his room, throwing orders at Simon and Dwight over his shoulder about guard rotations. The men kept giving Carl looks, ones Carl tried so hard to ignore, but by the time Negan pushed him into his room Carl had lost the battle against his tears.

Negan shut the door in their faces, barking something last minute through the wood, and turned on Carl with a smile that was short lived.

“Whoa, hey, what now?” Negan groaned, putting Lucille down against the door.

Carl wiped his eye and shook his head, turning away. “Nothing.”

“Dammit, Carl,” Negan said, his boots heavy as he approached.

Carl stepped away on instinct—he really didn’t mean to. He winced at the weakness, and tried to make up for it by turning and looking Negan in the eye, but Negan still pulled a face, the sour one this time.

“What?” Negan barked, brows knitted.

“I said _nothing_.” Carl hissed, crossing his arms, feeling just like Enid. He dropped them a second later and looked away.

“It’s not nothing when you’re snarling at me like I just pissed on your birthday cake. For fuck’s sake, at least give me a chance to piss you off before you get all bitchy with me.”

“I’m not being bitchy. I’m just…I’m just…” Carl rubbed his hands over his face, shoulders up high again. “It was hard.” Negan was nodding when Carl drew his hands down, so he carried on. “Just, dealing with everyone’s feelings on this is harder than actually doing it.”

“Daddy try to talk you out of it last minute?”

“Obviously. But I’m here.”

Negan closed the gap between them. “And I thank you for that.”

Carl nodded. This was a two-way street.

Nag patted his arm. “You’ll sleep here for a while. Don’t want to risk any unnecessary problems.”

Carl frowned as Negan turned away, taking off his jacket and kicking off his boots.

“What do you mean?”

“Gotta make sure everyone knows what this is. While I don’t think anyone will try anything dumb with you, I don’t want to take the risk.”

Carl shifted foot to foot, stomach clenching. “…Think someone will try to rape me?”

“I hope not.” Negan threw himself down into his armchair, groaning as if he’d had a long, hard day.

“I wouldn’t let them.”

“That defeats the purpose of rape.”

“I can protect myself.”

Negan raised a brow, and patted his lap. “C’mere.”

Carl pulled a face and stepped back to lean against the closed window. He crossed his arms again and raised a brow of his own.

Negan chuckled and shook his head, though his tone wasn’t as playful.

“Carl, it’s easy as shit to rape an omega, little badass or not. You can fight all you like, you can be a damn trained cop like your dad, but once you’re scruffed that’s it for you. A little heavy breathing here, grinding there, and your body’s gonna give it up whether you’re begging for it or cryin’ about it.”

Carl pulled a face at the crude images that appeared in his head. Whether that was true or not he was glad he hadn’t presented earlier, especially during their run in with the Claimers. 

“...Scruffed?”

“Scruffed.” Negan pointed to the back of his own neck.

Carl broke eye contact as he recalled when Negan did that to him. He’d felt the imprint of his fingers all night.

“And seeing as you don’t know shit about what you are I really wouldn’t risk it.”

“I just won’t let them scruff me then.”

“Carl, just listen to me, okay?” Negan looked irritable now. “People can be fucking animals and if more than one of them decide to team up on you you may take one down, but I guarantee you you’ll lose to the second or the third. You need to be realistic. You’re not just a little annoying beta boy anymore. You were when that asshole Joe got you and now you’re a brand new little omega, even with that eye—”

“Negan, I get it. But you can’t coddle me, they need to know I can protect myself if they think they can attack me.”

“And they _will_ , but until then I need you to stay close to me.”

“And how long do you want me to hang off of you? Until I realise I don’t want to let go and become your sex toy? Because that’s not happening, Negan!”

“Jesus Christ, Carl, all I want is to bond with you before I give you your own room so if they _do_ scruff you, you’ll have a fighting chance! Everyone knows you’re a feral fucking omega, they just need to know you’re not a slut!”

Carl fidgeted, tears welling again.

Negan got up and swung his hand at the door. “If you wanna go back, fucking go.”

Carl watched as Negan went into the kitchenette, and began slapping around random bits of food until it resembled sandwiches. 

It became increasingly uncomfortable as Negan ignored him, minutes passing as food disappeared, until Carl dropped his hands to lean on the windowsill behind him. 

“…Feral?” 

Negan answered after a few heavy beats.

“Yeah.”

“…How am I feral?”

“You certainly aren’t domesticated.” Negan snorted, turning around to lean back on the counter, looking at Carl across the room in a way that suggested he was uncomfortable. It gave Carl a speck of amusement, but it was counterproductive towards the end goal of peace.

“You don’t fuck with feral omegas. Anyone who values their dick knows that. But sticking your dick in one is like taming that wild bull that no one else can. And you can bet there’s always some idiot ready to risk his neck to try.”

Carl looked down, feeling chastised. He could hear what Negan was saying, and he knew that he was right. He had shown the Saviours he was an abled and ready killer, but he was also something else now, something contradictory and unique in their world that he had to take into a count here in a place where he wasn’t surrounded by people he trusted with his life.

“…I understand.” He said, toeing the floor with his shoe.

“No, you don’t.” Negan said. He sounded so sure that Carl actually believed him. 

“I’m trying.”

“So am I. I made a deal to keep you safe and I will but you gotta help me out. You’re not invincible and I can’t control every single thing my men do.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Carl sighed, lips pulling to the side. He looked up, trying to look sorry. It must have worked because Negan beckoned him over, nodding at the left over sandwiches.

Carl went over slowly just in case Negan was messing with him, but he made it all the way down to his third sandwich before Negan stole the last one. They ate in silence, Carl was hungrier than he realised, but Negan said nothing about his bad manners, watching him scarf down the bread with an increasingly softer glance as the afternoon ticked away. 

“Good?” Negan asked.

“Yeah, thank you.”

Negan grinned, back to the annoying man Carl was used to. “You’re very welcome, sweetheart.”

Carl blushed, brushing his hands of crumbs and peeked at the bed.

Negan followed his gaze, and hummed, low and throaty.

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too.”

Carl looked away quickly. “I’m not thinking about it.”

“Bullshit. You’re a young hot-blooded guy.” Negan laughed, slapping Carl on the back. “Relax kid, I’m not going to maul you. Not any time soon, all right? You can take a chill pill, maybe give me a smile or something.”

Carl looked up dubiously, crossing his arms only for the lack of what to do with them as the moments grew closer with the two of them alone, and _married_. 

“I said a _smile_.” Negan stressed, poking Carl’s creased brow with a finger. 

Carl leaned away, but kept eye contact. “So not now? Tonight?”

Negan crossed his arms too and sighed, knocking Carl’s elbow with his.

“Do you know when your next heat is due?”

Carl shrugged. “Three weeks, I think.”

“I can wait. Got a bunch of pretty faces upstairs to keep me busy.”

“…But why would you wait? Maybe we should just, you know, ‘like a band aid’…”

Negan groaned loudly and pushed off the counter, twisting over in a flash and planting both hands on either side of Carl, leaving the smallest bit of space left between them as he towered over Carl.

Carl leaned back as much as he could without the counter digging too painfully into his back, his entire body flushing hot at their position. Negan’s crotch was very nearly pressed into his belly with as tall as he was, and Carl didn’t dare look down to see if he was aroused.

“Carl,” Negan growled, leaning over despite Carl’s twitching, and brushed his beard against Carl’s cheek. 

Carl flinched away but he didn’t have far to go. Negan took full advantage, smiling like the dirty old man he was as he scented Carl, and forced Carl to do so in return. 

Carl took in Negan’s scent with weak reluctance, it was hard to resist when the alpha was so close and smelling so _good_. He swallowed, breathing through the nose to just get it over with as Negan nuzzled his hair, rubbing his nose over his head. Carl’s nose ended up in Negan’s neck, there was no avoiding it, but he tried not to feel too affected by it, even as his cock twitched at the scent of whiskey and leather and alpha-Negan-musk.

“You smell like candy made in heaven, baby doll.” Negan purred against Carl’s temple. The baritone of his voice travelled from his lips and into Carl’s skin, sinking so deep into his bones that it made his knees weak.

A small breath escaped Carl despite his efforts and he felt a foot shorter, mostly because he’d dropped a little. His knees pressed between Negan’s spread legs, bending more than he intended.

“Gonna make you want me bad before I take you.” Negan said— _swore_. He shifted his feet closer and nudged Carl’s knees with his to force Carl back up, bumping their bodies together this time. Negan didn’t remove himself, instead he pressed up against Carl and dipped in towards his face. 

Negan was definitely hard, and as mortified as Carl was, he realised he was too. He was panting, he couldn’t stop it, and the closer Negan leaned into his face the harder it became to get in any air.

“Doesn’t look like I’m gonna have a hard time with that though, am I? You’re wet for me already.”

Carl’s heart fluttered and his breath hitched high in his throat, taking away any chance of denying.

“So cute.” Negan teased, finally pecking his cheek.

Carl made a small sound that Negan ate up, chuckling low against him so Carl felt it against his stomach in soothing vibrations.

Then Negan made a frustrated sound, alarming Carl enough to look up, but Negan just bit his own lip and leaned back, finally giving Carl space to breathe again.

“You’re gonna drive me insane.” Negan said, dopily, slapping Carl’s hips before he pulled away entirely, and walked off.

Carl let out a huge breath and shivered, the air around him turning frigid without his alpha’s heat.

“You’ll get your own room when you’re marked. But we gotta fuck and knot for that, so whenever you’re ready to move out, let me know.”

For the night Negan jumped into bed with his boxers and nothing else, patted the empty side of the bed pointedly, and that was apparently it. He left Carl to cool down, apparently not as affected by their encounter as Carl was, who realised belatedly with more shame than he thought possible, that he _was_ wet. It was nothing more than a tickling drop hidden between his cheeks, but it was the first time he’d been wet outside his two heats. And Negan was the one to do this to him.

Carl slept on the armchair that night with the heat Negan left in his gut to keep him warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again thank you guys soooo much for the wonderful comments. They really inspired me to write more. And again,sorry for any Oocness, but I guess it comes with the territory of writing this kind of thing?? I just feel so worried all of a sudden. I haven't watched the show in months.
> 
> Also I’ll respond to comments soon, I’m just very very very freaking busy and stressed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyy who watched Venom? It was like I was reborn. I was skeptical, but phuuuuuck. I mean, I'm one of those monsterfuckers, but I also got the gift of finding Symbrock so it was like a double punch of nirvana. Now I want to write for them. I used to pull my nose up at people that kept adding ships and fics before finishing one and now I am one of them. Well, well, well, how the turntables...

“Hey. Kid, wake up.”

Carl woke with a start, jerking away with the touch to his shoulder. He blinked warily at the intruder, but the touch was gentle, matching the feminine face lifting away from him as he blinked repeatedly into focus.

“Sorry.” the woman said, fiddling with her fingers as two other women peeked over her shoulder.

Carl blinked again and automatically looked over at the empty, but made up, bed.

“He’s doing his rounds.” She said.

Carl shifted into a more dignified position and felt for his bandage, making sure it was in place as the women stared at him. He rubbed the sleep from his good eye and shifted again to get up and face the women.

“Do you remember me?” the first woman asked, smiling tightly. “I’m Sherry. This is Amber, and Frankie.”

Carl nodded, looking at each of them. His eye lingered on Amber a little longer, remembering her distinctly from his last visit when Negan caught her in her affair and gave them all a show. Carl sometimes could still smell the man’s burning flesh.

“I remember.” He said, a little awkwardly, glancing again at the bed.

Sherry glanced too, shrugging half-heartedly. “So…not much to do here. Do you want to come get breakfast? Negan said you need to eat.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” 

He didn’t mean to sound sarcastic, but she didn’t seem too offended.

“He thinks you’re a bit thin.” She shrugged.

“I wouldn’t be if he wasn’t trying to starve us back there.”

Frankie snorted, and Amber nudged her arm. Sherry nodded vaguely, looking at him from top to bottom. 

“Well, now he wants you to eat. Come on.”

“He likes hips.” Frankie said, earning another knock from Amber. “What? Better pack on the pounds.”

“Don’t.” Sherry warned, giving Frankie a look until the red-head relented with a huff and walked out. Amber gave Carl a sympathetic—but mostly awkward—smile and followed after.

Sherry smiled a little easier. 

“Don’t mind them. Negan just wants to look after you.”

“He doesn’t have to specify that I have to eat.”

“It’s an alpha thing, I guess.”

“Fine, whatever. Guess I could eat.”

Instead of going down to the common area where people went about their work, the Wives took him upstairs to their own private little sanctuary within the Sanctuary. Carl remembered being here before, but it felt entirely different now that this was a part of where he belonged. He was one of the Wives now. He was a part of the harem.

“How about eggs?” Sherry asked. 

Carl shrugged, there was no luxury of being picky—or so he thought. He sat quietly on the armrest of one of the sofas as Sherry took down the breakfast orders from each of Negan’s wives. The women came and went, telling her what they wanted, giving Carl a look or a smile if he was lucky, and went off, perhaps to their own rooms. Only a few women remained in the communal room, Amber and Frankie sharing a bottle of gin on the other sofa, and two other wives whose names Carl couldn’t recall sat on the third sofa, helping each other with their makeup.

They were all dressed in those tight little black dresses, heels high and hair flowing. Carl could see the appeal, and wondered for a moment if he was even allowed to be up here without Negan knowing—he was still a boy. A _man_.

“Carl?” Sherry called, snapping him out of his reverie. “Omelette okay?”

He nodded. He panicked a little when she made for the door, he didn’t want to be left at the scrutiny of the Wives in their turf, but she only slipped the note pad out, presumably to one of Negan’s goons.

“And orange juice, please.” She added as she closed the door.

“Did he fuck you?”

It took Carl a few moments to actually register the question and then some to realise the question was for him. He looked up slowly at the owner of the voice, at a loss of what to say as his cheeks went red as though he was guilty.

Amber was the one that had asked, but she just looked so morbidly curious that Carl couldn’t find enough anger to snap at her. They were all looking at him, not all too cruelly but like he was some kind of sad freak, and he supposed he was. 

“Of course not.” Sherry said after a moment, coming up beside him. “The room would’ve stunk.”

Carl looked at her a bit more sharply, and she waved her hand. 

“I don’t mean like that. I mean like, with the whole alpha and omega thing.”

Carl looked away just as quickly. 

“How did you survive out there?” Amber asked, with a tone of awe.

Carl glanced at her, but all he felt like offering was a small shrug. He wasn’t ‘ready-to-kill’ Carl anymore. He was an omegan wife. (At least, he was supposed to be.)

“Had to learn.”

 

When the food arrived Carl was sickeningly impressed. The food was good, well made, and the orange juice came in a jug with plenty of small glasses to go around. Sherry sat him down more comfortably on the sofa with the rest and they ate together, their talk simmering down to inconsequential things like weather the last few days and the bitch downstairs that was eyeballing one of them for something or the other. Carl couldn’t imagine living like this, they had absolutely no responsibility for their own lives in here, locked away and dependent on the men stationed down the hall to protect them when Negan wasn’t around.

Speaking of the devil, Carl blushed when Negan barged in some time later, giving all the women kisses and playfully commenting on the tang of orange juice on their lips. Negan ignored Carl right up until the last minute. Sherry lifted her face and let Negan steal a kiss, smiling as he murmured something to her. The rushing blood in Carl’s ears made it impossible to hear even with the pair right next to him, and then, all too soon, it was his turn.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Negan said, leaning over him and smiling broadly. He looked happy this morning. Why shouldn’t he? He’d been waiting for this since the first negotiation meeting.

“…Morning.” Carl said after a lengthy pause, unsure what response Negan wanted. 

Negan put a finger under Carl’s chin and tilted his head a little more. Carl was only a little shorter than some of the women and definitely shorter than Negan, forcing him to sit up straighter to meet Negan.

The kiss was chaste, nothing to write home about, and over in two seconds. Negan pulled back and licked his lips, patted Carl’s neck, and headed off again. Carl fought down the butterflies in the stomach, and stared off as the feeling of Negan’s lips slowly dissipated from physicality and into memory.

“You must’ve done something right last night. He’s in a good mood.” Sherry said.

“Hurray.” Frankie said, raising her gin and juice cocktail with Amber.

 

Carl spent the morning in the lounge with the Wives. 

The room was comfortable, so comfortable he would have been tempted to fall asleep if he wasn’t still cautious about Negan’s warnings last night. No one but the Wives and Negan had been in the room, to his knowledge, but like Negan said, there was always some idiot willing to risk it. If he fell asleep he’d be off guard, and it was stupid to think these women would be much help if he were attacked. They’d probably all get raped if Carl set off some amoral, thick-headed alphas. He couldn’t relax, he’d learned from experience it was best to keep on watch, no matter how safe you thought you were. Negan’s request suddenly didn’t seem so patronising—but it just reminded Carl where he was. He wasn’t home. This would never happen at home. He’d never had to worry, none of them, about being raped by your own group. It was a harsh reminder where he was, and who he was with.

 

Negan was his own harsh reminder.

“I really don’t have to make an example out of anyone, do I?” Negan asked the crowd standing below them. He leaned on the metal railing with Lucille, her barbed points scraping and clinking like a taunt.

“No, Negan.” The people chanted. Men, women, soldiers, gardeners, almost everyone but the children were present.

Negan gestured behind him where Carl stood, a foot closer but in line with the Wives, all of them present and silent as they too looked down at the workers and guards. 

“Because I hate to be violent around my wives. Lucille loves it, but she’s a special girl.” Neagan gave his bat a grin like it could blush and flutter its eyelashes. Carl barely managed not to roll his eye, and lucky too that he put in the effort because Negan stepped back and put his hand on Carl’s shoulder, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

“And as I’m sure most of you know, my dear Carl over here falls in the same category. I know the last few days have been full of excited gossiping like we’re all back in high school, but let’s get to the bottom of it so we’re all on the same page, shall we? Carl’s one of us now. Yes, he is omega, and yes, we are now married. And _yes_ , this is the same little shit that gave us that special little surprise a few weeks back. So if any of you, _anyone_ , tries anything funny with him, I guarantee that I’ll fucking kill you if he doesn’t do it first.”

Carl felt his chest bubble with something pleasant as the crowd looked up at him, various wary and uncomfortable looks strewn across the room. He’d made quite the impression that day, though he felt bad when he looked back on it. He’d been so ready to die, he hadn’t given enough thought to the people he left behind.

He kept his head up, his father’s hat thankfully on his head and casting a shadow over his face in a way that he knew was intimidating. _Especially with that eye_ , Negan liked to remind him like it fucking turned him on.

Negan grinned at the silence, and squeezed Carl’s shoulder. “Isn’t that right, Carl?”

“You won’t have to.” Carl said casually, the warning just loud enough to be firm but make everyone lean in to hear what he had to say. And by the worried looks on their faces, they probably believed Negan’s ranting about his little serial killer. 

“Fucking right!” Negan shouted. “And let’s extend that reminder for my ladies over here because I don’t do favourites. We all on the same page?”

“Yes, Negan.”

“Perfect. Back to work.”

No one stuck around unless they had a job to do. The Wives excused themselves politely, everyone scattering until it was just Carl and Negan standing on the platform.

“Happy?” Negan asked softly, not looking at Carl but leaning close enough to smell him.

Carl nodded as inconspicuously as he could, giving a half shrug.

“You could just give me a gun.”

“And have you terrorise my people? Your aim alone is scary enough.”

Carl gave him a dirty look and walked away. Negan followed after him, keeping up with ease no matter how fast Carl went. Negan was too damn tall.

“Hey!” Negan grabbed him by the back of his shirt and shoved Carl into the wall.

It came as a surprise. Not a painful one, but it knocked out his breath and he blinked into the concrete against his face, his hands coming up to push at the wall.

“I’m gonna need you to be a bit more grateful when I do stuff for you.” Negan whispered into his ear, completely caging him in against the wall. There was no one else in the corridor but Carl blushed anyway, trying in vain to become one with the wall as Negan pressed up against him, hot and heavy and powerful. “I’m gonna give you what you need, and you’re gonna be thankful. That’s only good manners, am I correct?”

Carl squirmed. “Get off me.”

Negan knocked his hat off. Carl twisted but Negan held him in place with his body, and with an amused hum he shoved Lucille between Carl’s legs and lifted.

Carl gasped and jolted up on his toes. The wire barbs threatened him but the seconds passed and that was all they did. He kept on his toes and the bat didn’t follow, but the escape put him in the position of lifting his ass into Negan’s crotch. He grunted and trembled between the two options, jerking each time his ankles failed and he felt the prickling of Lucille on his inner thighs through his weathered jeans, leaving him with no option but to lift and arch if he wanted to keep the bat from getting any closer to his balls.

While he struggled he didn’t notice Negan scenting his hair, pressing up against him harder until breathing in became an effort too.

“I can’t tell you how tempting you are. And not just because you’re omega, Carl. But you just give off this bad boy vibe that makes me want to pull your hair and sink my teeth into you for no goddamn reason.”

Carl flushed hot, partly in humiliation, partly in fear, and party because he might’ve nodded and pushed back if Negan wasn’t crushing him into the wall.

“You got issues.” Carl bit out, blinking rapidly as he focused on getting air in that wasn’t tainted with Negan’s scent.

Negan ground against him, pulling a soft moan from Carl, and nuzzled against his ear, nosing Carl’s hair out of the way. “You’d know, you little psycho. If you can’t even handle this without wetting your little panties how do you expect me to go about my day without worrying about you?”

Carl shook his head in the small space he had. “M’not…I’m not…”

“I can smell it.” Negan growled against him, a little angrier than before. “And every other alpha in here will too. Now go take care of yourself.”

Negan pulled Carl off the wall and shoved him forward, flicking his hand up towards the stairs. Carl found his footing with a few stumbles, and caught his hat when Negan picked it up and tossed it to him.

“Don’t leave my room for the rest of the day.”

Carl didn’t have breath enough to argue even if he wanted to. He would have, at least to remind Negan he wasn’t going to be some obedient dog, but looking down at himself made him stay silent. His face no doubt flushed red, mouth open in a pant, his jeans were tenting out and there was a clenching throb deep in his core that reminded him distinctly of what it felt like to be in heat. And all it took was a bit of manhandling. He hadn’t even been scruffed.

There was something very wrong with him.

And Negan needed to stop being right.

 

**XxXxXxXxXx**

 

Carl slept on the couches for a while. It wasn’t comfortable but he was used to that. He did feel safe in the room, everything considered, so every night he conked out without much of a problem. He woke up with a blanket on him the third day, and Negan threw a pillow in his face on the forth.

Negan didn’t seem to care that Carl hadn’t climbed into his bed yet, but the Wives did.

“What’s your deal?” Amber asked one day.

“Nothing?” He tried to shrug her off but her big eyes were piercing and caught him like a fly in a web. He knew what she was going to ask before she opened her mouth.

“It’s going to happen. There’s no use drawing it out. He’ll just be more sexually frustrated by then and you’ll wish you got it over with sooner.”

“Talking from experience?” he asked, feeling a sliver of guilt as her expression faltered, and she nodded.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve taken worse.” He pointed to his bandage, which was the least of the hardships he’d been through. These women had no idea about what he could take. Their version of pain was a scrape on the knee in his world. 

Still though, their morbidity was getting to him.

 

“You doing all right?” Negan asked one morning, slapping on aftershave in front of a mirror. Carl watched, unabashed, admiring the figure he was becoming used to. Negan’s scent was familiar too now in a far more intimate way. _He_ smelt of Negan now as he had once smelt of Rick. Negan had drenched him in his smell to the point Carl could barely make out his own. He’d smelt Negan on the Wives, but never to the point where their scent was drowned out. He didn’t have to be a genius to know Negan was trying to hide him any way he could get away with, but it didn’t bother Carl too much. He was here for Negan, not for his men.

“I’m fine.”

“Something bothering you?” Negan asked, turning to face him.

Carl shook his head.

“You look miserable. Missing mommy and daddy?”

“No.” Carl scowled weakly. He picked at a thread on his jeans.

“I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” 

Lori used to say that to him. Carl’s expression soured at the feelings it brought up, of her kissing his boo-boos and making everything better. When he wished he could go back to that he didn’t literally mean it.

“Fine, sulk like a little bitch. At least go upstairs. Socialise before you become a damn recluse.”

“I _do_.”

“Ah huh. But?”

Carl fidgeted, frowning at the carpet like it had insulted him.

“They ask too many questions…”

Negan laughed, and Carl looked up murderously.

“Sharing is what keeps this going, Carl. You can’t blame them. They’re dying to know if I think your pussy is better than theirs.”

Carl got up with a stomp seeing as he couldn’t twist his expression anymore to show his disgust, ready to grab his hat and storm out, but Negan had other ideas. He dived and grabbed the hat first and held it out of Carl’s reach. Carl gave him an angry ‘ _are you serious_ ’ look, tried to grab it, but all he did was jump around like an idiot until his anger had softened by the affection on Negan’s face.

“ _Stop it_.” Carl whined, shoving Negan against the door.

“Say you’re not mad at me.”

“I’m _always_ mad at you.”

Negan flung the hat over Carl’s head. Carl watched it land on the chair, but he took its place in Negan’s hands, twisted around so he was the one against the door.

“You’re sexy when you’re mad.” Negan teased, bumping their foreheads together.

“I hate when you talk like that.” Carl whispered.

Negan repeated in kind. “And I hate when you lie…”

“I’m not.” Carl said, even softer, but that too was a blatant lie. He knew exactly what Negan was talking about. It wasn’t exactly a secret that he had it bad for the man, and it certainly wasn’t with his body giving him away every time Negan’s skin met his.

“It’s cute when you’re mad, but let’s not try that on me, all right? I need more than a sulk and bitching to vent, and no one but Lucille likes when that happens.”

Carl shoved at Negan as hard as he could, blocking out the images of the very first time they met. Negan allowed it, but probably only because he needed to leave anyway. Carl let him go, and sulked in the room for the rest of the day.

 

Carl had known Daryl was still here, but he’d almost forgotten about Eugene. 

“You look well, all things considered.” Eugene said, standing in front of him in the line to lunch. 

Carl briefly shot him a dry look over his shoulder. “Yeah. So do you.”

“I don’t appreciate the insinuation.”

“What insinuation?”

“You’re here too. In a far more binding way than I am that you took upon yourself to draw up, if the rumours are correct.”

“So…?”

“So, I’m not the traitor you think I am. But if you want to lump me in that category you have to include yourself as well.”

Carl rolled his eye.

When he didn’t reply Eugene spoke again. “We had to make a choice.”

“I don’t care.” Carl turned his head and shrugged, caring next to nothing that Eugene looked somewhat stressed. “I really don’t care, okay?”

“I know.” Eugene said, nodding, “I know.”

Carl left without getting food. 

He tried a few times to find out what Negan was keeping Eugene around for but Negan refused to give him a straight answer. He wasn’t allowed to visit Eugene in his workshop, and the Wives that visited Eugene once a week had no idea either. He must have been doing something important though because Negan kept him comfortable and secure unlike Daryl, Carl soon found out.

“Now? Can we go now?”

Sherry groaned, thumping her head on the bar top.

“Please? I need to see him.” Carl begged. Sherry, much like most of the wives, took to drinking during the day, mostly out of boredom. It made their tongues looser, it made them giggly and carefree, but it also got them in trouble when they let out the wrong thing.

“You have to ask Negan first.” She stressed, pleading with her eyes, but Carl’s pleading was stronger.

“ _Please._ ” 

“He’ll get angry at me for telling you!”

“I won’t mention you. Just tell me where it is, you don’t have to come.”

“I’m not lying if he finds out.” Frankie called from the sofa, Tanya humming her agreement as they flipped through old magazines.

“He won’t.” Carl insisted, leaning on the counter to match Sherry’s height, but even without her shoes it was a stretch. 

“Carl,” she whined. “I care about him too but it’s not worth getting Negan upset. He wouldn’t want you down there anyway. He’ll skin us all if some asshole lays a finger on you.”

“I won’t let him do that.”

Sherry shook her head like he was in over his head, her eyes clouded with pity and regret, but eventually she gave him the directions to Daryl’s cell. She said she visited Daryl often when Negan decided Daryl needed punishment, it made her feel a little more human before she returned into the arms of a monster.

Carl wasn’t sure he could relate, he just wanted to see Daryl and make sure he was okay. Negan hadn’t said a word about Daryl being locked up again and probably because he knew it would’ve pissed Carl off. Carl was ready to be pissed off, barging his way through the hallways and down to the cell-rooms where Negan kept his prisoners, and if his nose was correct, where the Omegas that went into heat.

The scent of heat wasn’t fresh but it was still lingering there. He looked back worriedly as he went, wondering if his scent would remain in the air long after he was gone.

“Daryl?” he called when he thought he got the right door.

“Hey!” someone to his right barked.

Carl jumped, going cold, but it was just some nameless Saviour, gun hanging around his neck.

“What are you doing?”

“None of your business.” 

“It is my business.” 

It sounded like the man wanted to call him something, but he seemed to realise who he was barking at.

“I’m visiting my friend. Daryl’s here, right?”

“ _Carl_?” Daryl confirmed through the door, his voice hoarse.

“Open it.” Carl ordered.

“I can’t.” The man looked hilarious confused, glancing both ways down the hall as if he needed help.

“I want to see him. Open it.”

“I _can’t_. Negan’s orders.”

Carl gave him a look up and down then nodded him off. “Leave me alone then.”

“You can’t be down here—”

“I don’t give a shit. Fuck off!”

The man didn’t argue. He shot Carl a look close to hatred, and hurried off.

“Carl?” Daryl called again.

Carl leaned against the door. “Daryl? Are you okay?”

“The hell you doin’ here?” Daryl asked, thumping softly against the door. Carl sighed and knocked his forehead into the wood.

“Sherry told me you were here. I thought you were just stationed somewhere.”

Daryl was quite for a moment. “I was.”

“What happened?”

“S’nothing, Carl.”

Carl tapped his palms against the wood. He jiggled the handle but they weren’t that lucky. He debated going to look for the keys but what use would that be once Negan found out? He’d throw Daryl right back in and then throw Carl back into his room, locking the door this time.

“I’ll talk to Negan.”

“Don’t bother. Get outta here before he gets here.”

“He won’t hurt me.”

“Don’t play with fire, Carl.” 

When did Carl ever do as he was told? 

Negan caught him down there, and pulled Carl off by the wrist like a misbehaving child. Carl shot the tattling guard a look swearing retribution, and stumbled along after Negan and his long strides, Lucille looking at Carl over Negan’s shoulder.

“And how the fuck did he get passed you?!” Negan barked at the guards stationed at the stairway down to the cells. The men weren’t there when Carl sneaked by, but they had returned just as he slipped down and out of sight. It was a mistake long enough to get them into shit, and Carl pretended to be mute as the men tried to explain to Negan they’d only been gone a second. He shut them up quickly, threatening harm should this happen again, and kept pulling Carl along, outright yanking him when Carl couldn’t keep up.

“Let go!” Carl shouted, twisting and pulling his arm, digging his heels into the floor, but Negan was stronger. It made the sting worse, and it quickly morphed into pain when Negan’s grip tightened impossibly. Carl knew it was the wrong thing to do but he still pulled again, too damn stubborn, and he felt a pop in his wrist.

The sound that left his lips was foreign. It was sharp and shrill, bursting out from the back of his throat and echoing in every direction around them.

Negan let go of him in a snap. Carl couldn’t stay upright if he tried, already off balance as he struggled against Negan’s weight. He toppled over onto his back, immediately drawing his arm into his chest. He gasped as pain shot up and down his arm like a game of Pinball, burning into him a bangle made of fire.

When he got enough air in his lungs he let out a groan, this time a familiar sound of pain, and clenched his eyes as he tried to keep them to a minimum.

“Shit.” He heard Negan whisper. “Shit. Carl?”

Carl groaned back to acknowledge him, planting his feet on the floor and waving his knees as he swayed side to side, wincing as the pain shot right up his arm.

There was a stampede of footsteps and Carl pried his eye open to see a dozen men crowding from either end of the corridor, alarmed and wide-eyed.

“Negan?” Dwight was there, a metre from Carl. 

“Carl?” Negan asked again, his voice carefully blank as the Saviours crowded them.

“Is he all right?” Dwight asked, “We heard—”

“I know what you fucking heard.” Negan spat, “Get the fuck out of here! Get!”

Carl curled over and got onto his knees as Negan chased his men like dogs. The tone was frightening, especially as Carl was now a hand short to defend himself, but when he was the centre of attention again Negan crouched down next to him, and touched his shoulder.

“Shit, Carl. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Carl gave him the stink eye. Negan tried to see his hand but he hid it away, cradling it close and keeping the pressure on it to fend off the pain.

“Shit. I am sorry.”

Carl believed him. Negan rarely had reason to lie, he was an honest guy, and even then, his voice was heart wrenchingly genuine.

“My fault.” Carl said, shaking his head. 

“Fuck.” Negan ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t ever want to hear you make that sound again.”

“I didn’t mean to.” Carl said, wincing.

“I know that, dipstick. Exactly why I never wanna hear it again.” 

Negan helped him up, ignoring Carl’s squirming and grumbling until Carl was steady on his feet.

“Negan?”

It was Sherry. She came from the way they were headed, back upstairs. She looked between them quickly, quickly locking in on the way Carl hunched over his arm.

“What happened?” 

“Nothing. Get back upstairs.” Negan put a hand on the back of Carl’s neck and pushed him forward, slower and steadier than before, squeezing just enough to send a numbing tinge through Carl that he appreciated for dulling the pain a bit. They went passed Sherry without another word, and Carl didn’t fight again. He didn’t think of anything but the throbbing in his wrist and the warmth around his neck until Negan pushed him into the doctor’s office and lifted him onto the examination table, all hands on deck.

“What the fuck?” Carl grumbled, wincing as his arm moved between them, Negan’s hands around his waist and thigh. He shoved Negan away as soon as he could, but Negan hovered too close, too soon, standing between his legs even as Carl hit his chest with his good hand. He hit once, twice, thrice, getting harder as his anger returned, but none of it worked until he slapped Negan across the face, just as the doctor walked in and almost walked back out.

“Oh. Wow. Um…” The doctor looked between them nervously.

Negan stood a big step back and rubbed his cheek, brows high as he closed his eyes.

Carl sat panting, shaking as the adrenaline caught up with him. Now both hands were stinging.

“His wrist.” Negan said, gesturing for the doctor to take his place.

“Uh. Yes. What happened?”

Carl eyed the doctor, but he gave over his wrist, and turned his glare back to Negan.

“It was an accident.” Negan said, looking down.

The doctor eyed Negan too. He didn’t look convinced, but he examined carefully until he was satisfied with what Carl’s reactions gave him.

“Mild sprain at worst. I’ll wrap it up and it should heal within a few days.”

“You sure?” Negan asked.

“As far as I can tell. Unless he has a high tolerance for pain.”

Negan deadpanned at Carl. “It’s broken, isn’t it?”

Carl pursed his lips back, but to save the doctor witnessing their demented arguing he shook his head.

“No. I think it’s okay.” 

“Wrap him up.” Negan ordered.

The doctor went to work, being as careful as he could, like he was dealing with one of Negan’s _other_ wives. Carl mumbled twice that it was okay, it didn’t hurt that much, but with Negan right there staring at both of them, the man didn’t take any chances. When he was done he gave Carl two painkillers with some water, and washed his hands. Carl wiped his mouth, almost with his bandaged hand, and wondered how angry his dad would get if he saw it.

“Er, while—while I have you here, Negan, I’ve been meaning to see you. About, about, well, him.”

Negan cocked a brow for the doctor to continue. The man looked uncomfortably between the two of them.

“Um, privately, maybe?”

Negan barely opened his mouth when Carl cut in, lifting his wrist in Negan’s face.

“You owe me.”

Negan winced at the limb. “And you wanna cash it out on this? Don’t you want something better? Yeah, I fucking owe you…”

“What about me?” Carl asked the doctor as Negan looked down, mouth drawn like he’d been scolded.

The man sighed, knitting his fingers in front of his as he looked up as if the words were on the ceiling.

Negan rolled his eyes and sighed. “…Obviously about you and your little womb.”

Carl grimaced and looked away, expecting the topic but not the wording. 

The doctor nodded. “Yes. I need to know what your plans are for him so I can put him on a suitable prescription.”

“Give him the works, doc.”

“Oh, okay. Okay. I need to bring to your attention though that we don’t have—uh…”

Negan nodded for the man to finish.

“We-we don’t have enough heat suppressants to last very long.”

“Then cut the supply to the other two. Carl comes first.”

Carl frowned at Negan. The doctor looked shocked, and after a moment of internal deliberation he cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses.

“I wouldn’t advice that. The system we have of one-cycle-on-one-cycle-off is working. But if we take away the supply all together they could have a drop. At their age even a mating won’t sooth it. It could kill them to have a full-blown heat.”

Negan looked irritable now. Carl looked between them.

“Who?”

“The other two. The other omegas in the compound.” The doctor said, looking at Negan as if he wasn’t sure he should’ve answered at all.

“You can’t do that,” Carl snapped, leaning a little to catch Negan’s eye. “You look after your people. Right?”

“I-I’m sure we’ll find more soon,” the doctor said quickly as the couple glared at each other. “We have for a few months! It—it will just be a bit less now with a third party…”

“Don’t you dare.” Carl growled at Negan.

“You think this is easy? Do you want to go into heat?”

“I’d rather go into heat than take from someone else who needs it. Just lock me up like Daryl. That’ll be easy for you.”

Negan banged his hand on the counter top, medical supplies flying. Carl and the doctor flinched but Negan remained where he was, rubbing his mouth aggressively.

“I-I should talk to Negan alone.” the doctor said to Carl, voice gentle but laced with pity.

“Not if it concerns me.”

“Just do what you can for all of them.” Negan said, voice tight. “Birth control?”

“Well, that’s the better news. We have plenty of that. There’s a stock pile in the back that is omega orientated. So even if the suppressants fail, pregnancy is unlikely.”

Negan lifted his hands. “Then what the fuck was the rigmarole for?”

“Just-just in case. I know you wanted to be safe.”

“Well, all right. When does Carl start?”

“I can start him off tomorrow? Is that soon enough?”

“Perfect.” Negan smiled, eyes flickered over Carl’s hand. His smile didn’t grow any wider, and Carl felt a pang of guilt drop somewhere deep and dark inside him.

 

**XxXxXxXx**

 

“Good job on the brownie points.” Frankie said to him the next day when Sherry brought him upstairs for breakfast. “I bet you could ask for anything right now and he’d give it to you.”

“It was an accident.” Sherry repeated for Carl, putting the others at ease as well. Frankie shrugged.

“I’d ask for a blowjob. If he isn’t doing that already.”

Carl flushed but all he could do was pretend not to have heard her. He couldn’t nod or shake his head without giving them something extra to talk about.

“Is it bad?” Amber asked as he and Sherry sat at the bar.

“No.” Carl squeezed his wrist gently. “It’s fine. I pulled it in a weird way.”

“Everyone _heard_ you.” Amber argued, frowning. “Everyone’s been talking about it.”

“Everyone?” he asked, thinking about all the eyes that tracked him since the incident. 

“Omegan calls are loud.” She nodded. “Kind of scary, actually.”

“‘Omegan calls’?” he asked, looking between them.

“You don’t know what that is?” 

He shifted. “Not really…”

“You’ve never made one before? Since presenting?” Sherry asked, looking surprised.

“No? I don’t know. I don’t think so. I’ve only been presented for a couple months. I’d remember it, right?”

“Well, not if it’s a very traumatic incident. Usually you only hear those when omegas are being attacked.”

“He didn’t attack me.” Carl said, a little too quickly. “I was angry and I just kept fighting him. Just pulled my arm the wrong way.”

“I guess your body found it bad enough to call for help.” Amber said.

Sherry shrugged. “It’s a safety measure for when omegas are in trouble, usually when it’s an alpha aggressor. It kind of works like a car alarm. Shocks the bad guy from his crime while alerting the owner or a concerned citizen.”

“Great. That’s not pathetic at all.” Carl bit his lip, face burning at the recollection of the sound he made. No wonder everyone but the dead came running. 

“It worked? You scared him.” Sherry laughed. “He’s half convinced your wrist is broken and you won’t say so.”

“Can you imagine, though? Being the one to make your mate cry like that?” Amber said, smiling distantly for what Carl hoped was Negan’s discomfort and not Carl’s pain.

“I didn’t _cry_. It just came out. I don’t know about all this stuff…”

“Guess sex ed hasn’t been around for a while.” Sherry nudged his good arm. “Why don’t you ask the doctor? He can tell you everything you need to know.”

“No, that’s…that’d be weird.”

“He’s a _doctor_ ,” Amber giggled.

“Still.” He chewed his lip, glancing at them, “…Can’t you guys just fill me in? How much can there be? It’s just sex. I know the basics, what else is there?”

“No one had the talk with you?” Sherry asked.

“I had the talk but no one said anything about being scruffed and having secret screams.”

“Was your mom omega?”

“Yeah, but I don’t remember her acting like one. Nothing sticks out.”

“How many omegas are in Alexandria?”

“Um…I don’t think there’s any left. There was a guy, and maybe two women, but they’re dead.”

Sherry winced apologetically.

“Okay.” Amber nodded, tapping her nails on the bar as she thought. “Let’s talk omega.”

Carl tried to listen carefully.

 

**XxXxXxXxXx**

 

“Aw, ain’t this precious.” 

Carl and the Wives looked up. He glowered from where he reclined, nursing lemonade with a straw. Sherry had tucked a blanket around him, Amber had taken off his shoes and Frankie threw a damp cloth on his head. Two days day into suppressants and birth control and it was apparent it didn’t agree with him.

“You lookin’ after him so good.” Negan murmured, wrapping Sherry up in a hug. She nodded and let him kiss her, patting his jacket down when he let her go. Carl looked away, blushing for no good reason.

Negan walked around her and sat next to him. “Doc said you’ll be fine.”

“I know.”

“How’s your arm?”

“It’s fine. You’re not that strong.”

Negan smiled, crooked and cracked.

“He could do with a massage.” Sherry said, walking off to the bar as Carl gaped after her. Amber and Tanya giggled across the room at his expression.

“May I?” Negan asked immediately.

Carl made a frustrated sound, wanting to refuse because he did _not_ need his boo-boos kissed better, but the drugs in his system where evidently too strong, leaving him as a pale, trembling heap on the couch. He almost preferred going into heat.

“If you want.” He relented eventually, lifting his injured hand.

Negan took it carefully in his hands, and whistled, weighing it like a dumbbell.

“You’re scrawny as fuck.”

The girls giggled again. Carl would’ve raised a finger at them and their damn husband but he had the lemonade in the other hand. 

“Look,” Negan compared their wrists. “You’re a damn twig.”

“You’re just a freak from swinging that bat all day.”

“Hey, _hey_. That hurts Lucille’s feelings.”

Carl rolled his eye and took a sip from the straw as Negan felt around his wrist. When it was clear there were no bones protruding in the wrong places Negan started to rub circles into Carl’s wrist.

It went on for a few minutes, Negan going up and down his arm, being careful in a way he had when he had handled Judith. It was gentle and tender and everything Negan wasn’t. 

“It feels better.” Carl said, pulling his hand back suddenly. Negan sat up, licking his bottom lip like he was going to say something, but he let Carl go and rubbed his palms over his pants.

“Thank you.” Carl added as an afterthought.

Negan nodded, looking over him. “Sorry about the meds. He’s gonna cut the dosage a bit.”

“Good. I feel terrible.”

“Small price to pay.”

Carl didn’t reply. He wasn’t sure how to.

Negan got up, clapping his hands. “All right. Daddy’s got some free time. Who wants to play?”

Carl tried not to look up from his glass, fingers and toes wriggling as the women looked at each other. Even though he knew he wasn’t expected to raise his hand, it still gave him chills knowing it wasn’t far away. One day soon he was going to be in line.

“I’ll come.” Sherry offered.

Negan grinned. “Oh, yes, you will. Why don’t the rest of you fill Carl in while we’re gone, let him know what he’s missing.”

Carl bit his lip, keeping his gaze to the side as Negan chuckled and swaggered out with Sherry on his arm.

As soon as the door closed Frankie spoke.

“Not sure how good he is with someone else’s dick, but he’s good with his.”

Carl didn’t doubt it.

 

His wrist healed within three days. In those three days Carl did even less than usual, a by-product of the medication, not his wrist. That went away fairly quickly. It really wasn’t as bad as it appeared, but the medication made him sluggish, and at one time, heaving into a bucket. The girls gave him thumbs up when Negan wasn’t looking, but he really wasn’t trying to earn sympathy. Negan clearly felt bad enough. They all said it was because of his dynamic.

Carl tried to call bullshit, but since the incident Negan hadn’t flirted with him, he hadn’t started an argument, and he explained slowly why Daryl was being punished. Carl had calmed down enough by then to accept the reason, he didn’t doubt that Daryl had bit someone’s ear off. 

Negan also dragged Carl into bed. 

“ _Let me have this_?” Negan asked when Carl tried to refuse. It’s an alpha thing, Carl tried to remember. “ _You need a real bed. No freaky deaky. Pinky promise_.”

Carl wasn’t worried about that and he felt like shit, so he allowed Negan to coax him into his bed. It was warm and comfortable but he still shivered when Negan climbed in next to him, smelling delicious to Carl’s trembling senses. Negan didn’t touch him except for a slight brush of their feet during the night. Carl didn’t make an effort to move away.

In fact, it was time to move closer. He’d come this far. 

Had to seal the deal some time.

 

“Like this…?”

Sherry winced as Carl tilted his head for the tenth time in the tenth different angle.

“Uh, close… But chin down a bit and chest out.”

“I don’t have a chest to push out.” He grumbled but followed her directions.

“That’s better. Now look at me without lifting your head.”

Carl did so, feeling his lashes flutter.

Sherry clapped her hands. “That’s it, that’s perfect.”

“Yeah?” Carl tried not to smile, looking down again as he blushed.

“It’s cute. Very sexy. He’ll love it.”

“He better. I don’t think I’m very good at this.”

“I don’t think he’s expecting you to be. What fun would that be if he can’t carve you out himself?”

Wasn’t that the dirty truth?

For the last few days Carl absorbed what it meant to be _Omega_. He took the free advice from the Wives, they didn’t seem to care that Negan had added him to the harem. Most of them were old enough to have known at least two omegas in their life time, and they had read every magazine and book in the Sanctuary a dozen times. They helped to collect whatever articles they could on ABO, most of it was the stuff Carl remembered his mom reading on the couch while he played video games. At the time he had found it all boring and a bit gross, but now he was glued to the pages, soaking up all the little facts and stories that was passed around in teen magazines back when the world was whole. 

Not all of it was helpful. Most of it was for girls about female omegas and male alphas, only a dash of information of female alphas, and even less on male omegas. Sherry assured him it wasn’t all that different or complicated, and that when the time came his instincts would take over, like all the other things. Keening, scenting, marking, scruffing, dropping, submitting, heats, lubricating—instinct would take care of it all. Even as betas they could all keep up with Negan’s alphas needs and habits, so for Carl it should be a breeze.

Still, Carl had lived most of his memorable life without an example to look back on. His mother and Beth had been omega, and so was Carol, but that hadn’t mattered to him at the time, he hadn’t taken note of how it made them different, how it made _any_ of them different. Sex and love were pushed far from the forefront of their daily lives where gender dynamics quickly became as inconsequential as race and riches. All that mattered was that you became strong enough to survive. And if Carl knew one thing, it was to survive.

“Anything weird I need to know about?” he asked Sherry. “About him, and all _that_.”

She pulled her lips in thought. “Not really. He’s pretty much what you’d expect.”

Carl blew the air out of his cheeks. He’d been simultaneously trying not to think of what to expect of Negan in the bedroom all the while preparing himself. At least her answer wasn’t surprising.

“He likes to be on top.” She added, then shook her head as an afterthought. “Oh, wait, no, that’s because of our breasts…”

“Think I’ll be fine the other way…” he hid his face in his current magazine. She curled her fingers over the top and tugged it down, brows pinched.

“You know, if you’re not ready it’s not a train smash. He’s patient with this, at least. You’re not on the clock. You’re still really young, he knows that.”

“Yeah, and he and my dad are still really ready to kill each other. If my dad is still messing around by the time Negan goes back there and he hasn’t screwed me, what’s holding him back from hurting someone anyone else?”

“Knowing he’ll never get the chance to if he does. You’d be surprised what he’ll do to make us happy. When it suits him, of course. So milk it when you can.”

Carl nodded. That was the plan.

 

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

 

Negan was embarrassing. He was like an overbearing soccer dad, and the description only sounded more embarrassing when Sherry laughed at him for saying so.

Rick was overbearing at times, but Negan added a whole new layer to it in the name of _marriage_. It must have been an alpha thing because Carl didn’t think that he nor his mom nor Beth and certainly not Carol were overbearing like this. Carl was new to being omega, but while figuring himself out he tended to forget he was new to interacting with others according to their secondary gender. Things got a little more colourful with the sway of pheromones and instincts.

 _Eat this, watch this, try this, use this, feel this_ ; Negan was very interactive with his Wives, it was a little surprising to Carl. He was attentive when they spoke, agreeable when they had requests and funny in conversation, aside from being embarrassing and lewd. The Wives must have been used to it, or maybe they just liked it. They _must_ have liked it at some level, there was a perpetuate sense of female beta arousal in the communal room. None of them were ecstatic to be there, but on the days they succumbed to lust and duty, Negan always had someone willing to mess with, a fact that Negan wasn’t shy to brag about to all his men. Dwight’s face was blanker than usual those days. Sherry was drunker.

It made Carl appreciate being stuck here instead of back home where Negan could humiliate his father. It was hard handling Negan, twice so as Negan started coaxing out every bit of omega lurking behind Carl’s high walls.

The medicine didn’t keep his inner omega at bay, it was only a birth control, so every time Negan grinned at him and brushed his hair out of his face Carl felt a terrible urge to press into it and purr. With the smaller dose of suppressants and birth control Carl felt back to normal, but he would have accused the doctor of slipping in something else with the increased amounts of hard ons he got, but that was just Negan, no mystery there or conspiracy there. 

Carl hadn’t been there long, but after the third day of sleeping next to Negan, alone in a dark room, covered in soft blankets that smelt of his new alpha, Carl found himself cracking.

He peeked over his shoulder first, watching Negan sleep. Negan had a hand high over his head, the other on his chest, bristled face soothed out into a picture of serenity. Carl pushed the covers down to his waist and shifted up on his elbow first, peeking back again. He continued at a moderate pace, as orderly as he could be as his crotch flared hot and insistent in his pyjamas until he got out the bed. It was a good bed, it didn’t creak much. 

He made it to his feet successfully, but all it took was three steps forward to know he was going to wrong way.

A whine escaped him, soft and troubled as he struggled between his brain and his gut. _Go to the alpha_ , his instincts urged, sweat beading on his forehead as he grew hotter at the thought of climbing back in bed and on top of Negan. 

It would be so easy.

Carl didn’t move other than to press down on his erection. He stared at the door. It was so close. He could slip out and get into the nearest toilet with maybe one guard to see him.

But he still didn’t move.

“Carl?”

Carl made a noise in response, neither positive nor negative. He grit his teeth and willed himself to move, make a dash for the door, but it made no sense, it would be too much effort for so little reward when a better offer was current sitting up in bed.

“What are you doin’? Sleepwalking?” Negan asked, rubbing his face. 

Carl swallowed, turning his head a little, but not all the way. Negan couldn’t see him blush in the dark, but he was sweltering, panting and even he could catch the scent dripping through his pores. It was so much worse.

“Carl?” Negan got up this time, a bit more concerned. He chuckled as he came around the bed. “What? Did I catch you tryin’ out a plan to kill me?”

That would have been a hell of a lot easier to explain, Carl thought wildly. He took a clumsy step back as Negan came towards him, his eyes now visible in the light glowing from the lights outside.

“What are you—” Negan cut off, lifting a hand to his face. “Dear, God!”

Carl shuffled back until he hit the windowsill, the glass cold and divine through his shirt.

“Carl, the _fuck_.” Negan rasped, asked? He took a step back first, and then he barged forward and grabbed a handful of Carl’s shirt. He tugged and leaned in, taking a big sniff. Carl knocked his head back against the glass, pushing at Negan’s arms, but there was nowhere to go.

“Are you kidding me? Are you _kidding me_?!” Negan hissed, letting him go.

Carl just focused on breathing, but Negan was making that difficult too.

“I’m going to kill him.”

Panic trickled through Carl. He whined in the back of his throat, thoughts going straight to his father. He reached out and tried to grab onto Negan but Negan had no shirt on, nothing for Car to curl his fingers around. He ended up raking his nails down Negan’s chest, breath hitching at the fuzzy heat at his fingertips.

“Please don’t.” Carl begged, struggling blindly as Negan tried to steady him. “Please. Don’t...”

“Fucking bullshit.” Was all Negan said when he pushed Carl’s hands out of the way and bent over, and tossed Carl over his shoulder like dead weight.

Breathing became a chore. Carl struggled to find his balance as everything turned upside down, Negan’s shoulder in his gut, stealing away his voice and lung capacity. He had to claw at Negan’s back for some semblance of balance and control as the alpha took off walking, banging open doors and growling something at the men stationed at their checkpoints who asked if he needed anything. All it took was one arm to secure Carl’s thighs to Negan’s chest even with his wriggling, but the feeling of Negan’s hand clamped around his hip, holding him up, was responsible for most of the wriggling.

Carl hid his face in Negan’s back when Negan flicked on a light as he stormed into another room. This time Negan stopped long enough for Carl to gasp for air, and complain gutturally as Negan heaved him over onto his ass onto an elevated surface.

“Negan…” Carl groaned, grabbing onto whatever was beneath him. Scratchy and white, smelling faintly of rubbing alcohol.

“Sit tight.”

“Hnngh…” Carl rubbed his face, taking a few deep breaths as his body trembled. “Why are you—?”

Negan shushed him, and went to yell out the door.

“I just need the toilet.” Carl said, shaking his head, wincing at the flare of arousal that hit him at Negan’s commanding tone.

“To piss?” Negan asked, glancing at him before he started rummaging around what Carl now recognised as the doctor’s office. Negan lifted a waste basket. “This okay?”

“No.” Carl whined, shifting and pressing on his crotch. “Not that.”

“This?” Negan picked up the doctor’s mug. Carl shook his head incredulously but there was no time for insults as two Saviours rushed into the room, shoving the disorientated doctor through.

“Got him, Negan.”

“What-what’s happened?” the doctor asked, looking from Carl to Negan.

Negan slammed the mug down where he found it and marched over into the doctor’s face, earning two pathetic flinches

“You tell me, doc!” 

Carl winced at the echo. 

“Why are you shouting?!”

“Care to tell me what this is?” Negan gestured at Carl.

Carl looked down at himself and lifted his knees, pressing harder until it hurt, but his blood refused to leave his lower region.

The doctor stuttered, hesitating as he inched past Negan’s snarling like prey.

“Uh, let-let’s see…”

Carl fought a little to hide his erection until Negan chased off the two Saviours and shut the door. The doctor paid little attention to it, and checked Carl over in a hurry.

“And?” Negan prompted sarcastically.

The doctor looked up, swallowing.

“I’m f-fine.” Carl said.

“Have you been intimate?” the doctor asked Negan. 

Negan’s brows popped.

“Excuse you?”

“It’s-it looks like a preheat—”

“I don’t want to hear that. What about the blockers?”

“It’s not fool proof, Negan. Sometimes—”

“Not with the other two downstairs.”

“They don’t have mates.”

“ _We’re_ not mates.”

“But…but you’re going to be.”

Negan stuck his tongue in his cheek, glancing at Carl, looking away before they made eye contact.

“Are you saying its psychological?”

“I-I—yes, I believe so. He’s just adapting. Nature can reclaim anything if it—if it feels compelled to.”

Negan thought it over and stared at a spot on the doctor’s forehead like it was a target. 

“We haven’t been intimate.” Negan said after a moment. “I’d take the blame if I was instigating it but I’m not. The meds aren’t working. You gotta put him back on a stronger dose.”

“No,” Carl complained, shaking his head.

“It’s not an actual heat.” The doctor stressed, “It’s just the symptoms while his body fights the one he should be having. I’m sure the dose was enough. It’s more likely to do with him. He’s young, and—and you’re impressionable. You’re an impressionable alpha. It’s going to affect him, even without intimacy.”

“We share a bed?” Negan offered.

The doctor nodded, opening his palms. “Emotional intimacy too.”

Negan was quiet after that.

Carl was already flushed, but his cheeks tried their best to shame him. Neither of the other men paid him much attention though, and Carl sighed heavily when he realised he was getting soft again.

“…How do we know it’s not a real heat? It smells like one.” Negan asked.

“It does to the untrained nose. But it’s not.”

“So false alarm?”

“Most likely.” The doctor cleared his throat when Negan tilted his head in warning. “I can’t stop him from becoming aroused by you.”

Negan blew the air out of his cheeks just as Carl looked at him, mouth open in the beginning of a weak denial. He closed his mouth when Negan turned to him, face soft and playful again.

“You should’a told me.”

“I’m not.” Carl said, too quickly to be believable.

“If you want to, um, Negan, we can check how lubricated he is. If you haven’t been intimate tonight and if it isn’t a heat then he won’t be overly wet. If it’s heat he’ll be soaking through his underwear. It’s easy to differentiate.”

“I’m _not_.” Carl repeated, glaring at the doctor who shrunk from him, eyes flickering between him and Negan, the latter of who looked very fucking amused.

“Damn.” Negan chuckled. “Got my knickers in a twist there. Sorry, doc.”

“That’s fine. Completely understandable. It’s safer to check. I’ll do a check up on him tomorrow.”

Negan groaned. “Wait. Does this mean I can’t mess around with him?”

“Oh, God…” Carl hissed, turning his face from the doctor. 

“There shouldn’t be a problem. But, I don’t know if you know, or remember, but there were studies being done before everything went to hell about false heats and that they’re commonly suffered by omegas who aren’t yet mated _but_ have an alpha partner. Estranged lovers, teen romance, couples who wait until marriage, you understand. They argued that physical intimacies could help quell a heat rather than cause it. Of course, that didn’t go too well with the conservative folks and all…”

Carl looked at Negan questioningly. Negan responded with a whistle. 

“I honestly did not know that.”

Carl fidgeted. “So…what does that mean?”

“It means, baby boy,” Negan turned and boxed Carl in, leaning his hands on either side of Carl’s thighs, “that you don’t have to keep pretending you don’t want me.” 

Negan leaned in as Carl leaned back, drawing the teen into unavoidable eye contact. He grinned stupidly. “Doctor’s orders.” 

Carl looked at the doctor, then to Negan, and then back to the doctor. The doctor shrugged uselessly.

“I don’t…” Carl licked his lips and took a few needed breaths to ground himself and process everything. He had no idea what time it was and most of his blood and oxygen were still trying to make it back up from below the waist.

“Why didn’t you say something, baby? I promised to take care of you, didn’t I?” Negan licked his lips, smiling, and planted a kiss on Carl’s cheek before Carl could attempt to avoid it. “Promised to give you what you need…” another kiss, on the other cheek, “Promised to make you happy…”

“No, you didn’t.” Carl said quietly, eye fluttering as Negan’s breath ghosted over his face. He realised he didn’t have his bandage on, but Negan was still looking at him like he wanted eat him.

“Course I did. You just gotta let me. Let Daddy take care of you, Carl.” Negan dipped for his lips, but Carl turned away.

“I don’t need anything...”

Negan tilted his head to follow. “Liar, liar, pants on fire. Remember that one?”

Carl shoved Negan aside—not very far, Negan was quite a weight—and slid off the table.

“I’m going to bed.”

Negan clapped the doctor on the back made a pleased noise as Carl stormed off.

“Duty calls. I’m comin’, sweetheart.”

“Fuck off.”

 

The only thing worse than going to a doctor was knowing that the doctor was right. 

Carl woke up the next morning in another sweat with Negan manhandling him out of bed. Carl did his best to wake up fast enough to be useful but he blinked and suddenly he was back in the doctor’s office, getting a proper check up. And the verdict was out: he wasn’t in actual heat.

As good as that was, it also meant that it was blindingly obvious that he had the hots for Negan. 

He’d known that already, it wasn’t a surprise... But having his body fight him and the blockers just to lure Negan over was another nail of shame hammered into his new omega cage. 

On the other hand, Negan had been patient so far and Carl appreciated it. He was just waiting for the right time to reward that patience, a night he felt confident and strong and in control, but it was starting to look unlikely to come about. He couldn’t even put the blame on Negan, even if the doctor hinted in that direction last night.

“If it persists for more than an hour come and see me. And drink a lot of water.” 

“Thank you.” Carl mumbled, getting off the examination table with as much dignity as he could while in his sweaty pyjamas, sporting a semi. Negan was outside the room dealing with something that couldn’t wait.

He opened the door and peeked out, brushing his hair over his ruined eye.

Dwight was there, as well as Simon, and they looked at him around Negan. Negan turned and cocked his head, looking him up and down through the crack.

“All good?”

“Yeah.”

“Ready to get back?”

“Yes.”

Negan nodded and turned back to the others. “Meeting room, ten minutes.”

“Sure thing.” Simon smiled, making sure Carl felt his gaze as he and Dwight walked off.

Carl waited until the hallway was empty and then bolted out.

“What time is it?” he asked over his shoulder, not waiting but not surprised when Negan kept up, Lucille over his shoulder.

“Early.”

Carl sighed, picking up the pace and leaving as few witnesses as he could until he blew into their room and made it to safety.

“You know everyone’s gonna smell you anyway?” Negan said as he shut the door behind them.

Carl glared, and after a quick debate he climbed back into bed. “Bet you want them to see me like this too.”

“Oh, no. No way.” Negan walked up slowly, eyes dark. Neither of them had gotten much sleep after Carl’s wake up, and Carl pretended not to notice the horniness that saturated Negan’s scent by the morning. “This is for my eyes only. I’m a jealous guy, if you haven’t noticed.”

“You know, now that you mention it…”

Negan smirked and came over to the bed, tall and prickly like a fucking cactus. 

“…Are you gonna take care of yourself or do you want me to?”

“It’ll go away.” Carl bunched the covers up in his lap, defiance burning in his eye and embarrassment in his cheeks.

“So what’ve you been doing lately?” Negan asked.

“Keeping the bed warm and producing carbon dioxide.”

Negan shrugged, and then tossed himself on the bed, boots and all. He groaned and arched his back, on his side towards Carl who had practically sunk into the bedding since the morning.

“The girls have only good things to say about you, by the way.”

Carl felt a warm flutter inside him as Negan smiled through his words. He wanted to smile back, he wanted to say thanks for not being a complete asshole about this, but a day in a room all by himself had its effects.

“…When are you going back to Alexandria?”

Negan studied his face.

“When I need to.”

“When’s that?”

“Why do you need to know?”

Carl shrugged.

Negan chewed on his lip. They sat in silence for a while until Negan sighed.

“Do you want to leave?”

Carl fiddled with the blankets in his lap. “I never said that.”

“ _One_ month hasn’t even gone by. Are you gonna make it?”

“I just wanted to remind you about the deal. Don’t get worked up. And don’t work my dad up. Please.” Carl looked up from the side at the end, head tilted in a way that looked natural but drew attention to his throat.

Negan frowned and lifted himself up a bit on his elbow. 

“I will try not to. I promise.”

Carl’s lips twitched down and to the left. Negan caught it without prompting.

“I signed the contract just like you. You’ve been good, Carl, so I’ll be good. Pinky promise.”

Carl looked up to find Negan’s hand in the air, his pink finger extended. He couldn’t help chuckling, the sight made him feel fuzzy, and Negan seemed to light up, pleased by his reaction.

Carl wrapped his pinky around Negan’s. “Pinky promise.”

Negan brought their hands close and planted a kiss on the back of Carl’s hand.

“Thank you, baby.”

Carl held his breath as Negan’s beard scratched his skin, a delicate contrast to the soft press of his lips. He watched as Negan smelt his hand, humming to himself, and then gave him another kiss, a little firmer this time. Negan looked up, eyes full of mirth and question as his parted lips hovered, warm and wet.

Voice caught up, brain scrambling for words anyway, Carl lifted his fingers and stroked from Negan’s temple down to his cheek.

Negan hummed louder and kissed his hand again before arching out their arms so he could start his way up Carl’s arm, sending a wave of goosebumps forward.

He was more gentle than Carl expected, than he _wanted_ , but he didn’t know how or if he even wanted to stop Negan in his trail of chilling kisses up the length of his skinny arm. Negan’s skin was so much darker when pressed against his, tanned and scarred and covered in coarse hair that Carl would never grow. His eyes were lit up like flames, shining and trained on Carl’s face like he was everything in the world to Negan. Carl knew it wasn’t true, but a second of pretend was all if needed to make him turn his head when Negan reached his shoulder.

Negan stared into his eyes, leaning over so close that Carl could feel his breath, almost tasting the whiskey. 

“I’ve missed you.”

Carl’s skin pimpled all over again. He licked his lips, doing nothing to stop his soft panting, and searched Negan’s face for the brute he married. All Negan did was squeezed Carl’s hand in his, twisting their fingers into a tangle. Carl shuddered at the size of his fingers, and wondered what it felt like to be hit by them at full force.

“…Me too.” He whispered, hoping Negan understood.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Negan said, voice low, and he pressed his lips to Carl’s shoulder. He kissed but he didn’t pull away, only rubbing his nose side to side before kissing again, this time with his lips parted and with a little suck against Carl’s skin.

Carl jumped and laughed, too out of breath already. Negan noticed too and he grazed the ball of Carl’s shoulder with his bottom teeth. It sent sparks up Carl’s neck and down his arm like he’d been electrocuted. His whole body flushed indecently with the onset of the false heat, but it gave Carl the nerve to take the leap. 

He pressed his mouth against Negan’s and moaned. It was straightforward and a bit lopsided but it did the trick. Negan surged up like a hurricane and draped himself over Carl’s body, holding himself up so Carl could breathe as he descended. 

There was little for Carl to do but hold on and follow Negan’s lead. He parted his lips without a fuss and groaned when Negan’s tongue slipped between them. 

Negan kissed like he did everything else, in control and thoroughly. His whiskers scratched and burnt Carl’s cheeks but inside his mouth was warm and wet and full of filthy sounds every time he broke away to let Carl suck in air before he kissed it away again.

Their noses bumped and brushed as Negan turned his head this way and that, trying Carl’s mouth out every which way he could with increasing ferocity. Every kiss became more urgent, more demanding, even as Carl did less than half of it, managing to just take what Negan gave him. In the end Carl gave up trying to keep up and tried to keep his breath as Negan shoved his tongue down his throat, romance and caresses tossed to the curb.

“Ne-Negan—” Carl choked out when he got a chance, pressing back into the pillow when Negan sought out his lips. “H-hold on—”

Negan growled, a dismissive sound, and slotted their mouths together again with a wet pop. 

Everything was on fire, and Carl moaned as Negan’s thigh pressed into his crotch. He arched and kissed back as best he could, trying to accommodate Negan’s tongue and the lustful sounds he was breathing into him. Carl was sure he was passing Negan a few of his own sounds, high breathless gasps and needy shameful little whines that he would have been shy about if Negan wasn’t treating him like this was a regular hook up. Like one of the _Wives_.

Despite what Negan gave him, Carl still needed air. He started patting on Negan’s chest, consistently and patiently at first as a little voice inside him said not to disrupt his alpha. It didn’t get him anywhere, lost between their bodies, so he shut down his inner omega and started banging with his fists until Negan lifted off of him and broke the kiss.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Carl kept his arms out to keep Negan at bay as he tried to catch his breath, his lips wet and swollen, and shit, he might have beard burn.

Negan made a wondering sound and shifted above him, his eyes dark and clouded as he watched Carl breathe.

“Been waiting to do that for too fuckin’ long.”

 _Me too_ , Carl acknowledged to himself. His arms dropped slowly as he caught his breath, but his gaze remained up and locked with Negan’s, a grin spreading across the alpha’s face.

“Was that as good as it was for you as it was for me?”

Yes, so Carl nodded. Negan’s grin drew impossibly wider and he bit his lip, considering the state he put Carl in.

“Now this is another good look on you. Little badass serial killer aiming a gun and little fucked out bitch belly up. You’re fucking _gorgeous_ , boy.”

Carl’s stomach twisted at the sheer authenticity in Negan’s voice. It almost hurt to hear, humiliation and lust in a battle for his pride, but in the end, their shredded threads tangling into what Carl recognised as omegan want.

Negan dipped his head, but all he did was give Carl an Eskimo kiss.

“You wet for me?” he asked, whispering, circling his nose around Carl’s leisurely.

Carl grunted, eye fluttering at the affection shown, at how much Carl _needed_ it. It was a good touch, soft and kind and something rare in their world to be coveted. 

Negan tore the blankets out from between them, flinging them away without breaking eye contact. He reached back and shoved a hand between Carl’s legs to smack them open, and climbed in snug when they twitched apart. Carl didn’t have the chance to feel cold as Negan’s entire being covered him, pressing up close so Carl was forced to lift his knees and part them even further.

“There we go, doin’ so good, baby,” Negan praised, adjusting them so Carl’s thighs rested up against his, knees high at ninety degrees with his calves hanging over behind Negan, and their crotches meeting for the first time. 

“Didn’t think you’d play the part. Thought you were gonna fight me a bit, give me a chase.”

Carl frowned, but it was hard to feel anything other than lust as Negan rubbed his massive hands up and down his thighs through his pyjama pants.

“What part?”

“You know, the obedient omega. I ain’t complaining, just saying.”

“A chase, like, a mating run?”

Negan smiled. “Been learning, I see. I was wondering what you were doing with the girls. Thought you were trying for a bit of nookie.”

“Learned a bit,” Carl admitted, breath hitching as Negan’s fingers tickled his skin.

“Damn. If the world wasn’t crawling with the dead I think we’d be perfect for a mating run. Doesn’t work with everyone, too old school and gritty for most city girls, but I bet you’d give me a chase like nobody’s business. Wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”

“Why should I run? I’d rather fight you.”

Negan laughed low and sultry from the back of his throat as he pressed his groin forward into Carl. Carl bit back a moan at the pressure against his erection.

“You don’t seem to be in a fighting mood.”

“I’m feeling generous.”

Negan laughed again, loud and cheerful, and grabbed Carl’s hips and shook him playfully. “Still got that mouth on you. I didn’t kiss you enough, did I?”

“Nope.” Carl half regretted saying that but Negan was elated, pushing up Carl’s shirt to bare his stomach, and slid his fingers up from his hips to his ribs.

Carl squirmed, ticklish as Negan’s fingers danced and pressed in such a vulnerable area, but his knees parted some more ever so slightly, saying everything he couldn’t.

“Wanna fuck?” Negan asked crudely, but with a dash of hope that amused Carl more than he thought it should. Negan wasn’t safe, Carl _was_ playing with fire.

“I—I don’t know.” Carl admitted, his breath stuttering when Negan’s fingers found their way to his nipples. They were pebbled and sensitive under Negan’s hard skin, pronounced as Negan rubbed his fingers side to side over them. “But—” He bit his lip, back arching into Negan.

“But?”

Carl pushed his hips up, tightening his legs for leverage to lift himself against Negan’s crotch, and his fingers, chasing the pleasure so easily offered.

“But, we could…” Carl gasped, watching between their bodies as the need in him rose. Not uncontrollably, not like a heat, but still enough to make him separate from his inhibitions.

_BANG BANG_

Carl almost jumped clean out of his skin and scrabbled to look presentable—a lost cause, but he still tried.

“ _Fuck_. WHAT?!” Negan barked over his shoulder, not moving an inch.

“Must we reschedule the meeting?” Dwight asked through the door.

“ _Ffffffuck_.” Negan hung his head, giving Carl a face full of his hair. He looked up, pouting. “I fucking forgot I had business to take care of. You fucking little minx.”

“S’not my fault,” Carl said, wriggling and glancing worriedly at the door. 

Negan groaned and pushed up on his knees. “I’m coming.” He told Dwight. He smacked the outer side of Carl’s thighs, chuckling like a dirty old man when Carl jumped. “I’ll be back. Don’t you leave. Figure out what you wanna do, I’m game for anything. And I’m a helluva good sport.”

Carl blushed and sat up as Negan got off the bed, straightening his appearance. Carl brought his knees to his chest to hide his erection, and he felt slick trickle between his cheeks. He went stiff but Negan didn’t seem to notice, picking up Lucille and marching out of the room.

Carl waited a minute before he dared to climb forward onto his knees, eye trained on the door. He got on all fours, breathing carefully as his erection hung heavy in his pants. He squeezed it briefly to relieve some of the pressure and it helped, but the more pressing matter was further between his legs.

There was no privacy during an apocalypse, and when there were precious moments of being alone they weren’t very long, so time for things like sex and masturbation had never gone hand in hand with Carl, to be blunt. The scarce times he’d _played_ with himself were choppy and to the point, as quick as possible before he was caught. It had been enough at the time, his hand and vague memories and images of people he found attractive, but after presenting he’d avoided touching himself. With Negan in their lives he’d never been able to relax enough at all to even bother, so there was no way he was going to waste time exploring his new body. It just wasn’t important, it hadn’t been even after presenting, but now it was. It was in Negan’s world. Sex was as important to Negan as food and water.

Biting his lip, eye on the door, Carl slid a hand into his pants and underwear. None of it was the sexiest stuff, old boring clothes made for teenage boys, nothing like the Wives lingerie, but Negan hadn’t seemed put off in the least. He probably got off on it. Carl, his freaky little prize.

He couldn’t help stealing a few strokes, breathing out hard instead of making any suspicious sounds. He stopped short, already feeling the onset of an orgasm, liquid leaking from the tip. He swirled it around, spreading the moisture for when he returned to his cock to get off, and pressed his fingers around his balls.

 _Holy fuck he was wet_. ‘Heat’ wet, his inner cheeks messy with inviting slick. He spread his fingers around in it, alarmed by the quantity as he recalled his heats. They had been a nuisance and terribly embarrassing. He’d overheard (by no one’s fault but his own) his father and Michonne whisper about knot plugs that they should’ve kept the few they’d come across them when scavenging. It was humiliating that they knew what he’d been reduced to in his room, writhing and whining and pressing his skinny fingers into himself even though it wasn’t enough. If he ever found a knot plug himself he swore to keep it, but he’d rather suffer as quietly and privately as he could than accept sex toys from his dad. Maybe it had been normal for omegas before all this, he didn’t know. He was only just learning.

He rubbed the tips of his fingers over his hole. It was firm but puffy, pronounced in the dirtiest way, leaking more lubrication than he wanted Negan to know about. He didn’t have to know _how_ hot he got Carl, the prick. It was just like when he was in heat, so when he slipped his fingers in he knew what to expect.

“Shit…” his head turned down, eye closing as he filled himself with two fingers. The stretch felt natural and right, so he pushed in a third and pumped them a little.

There was no pretending it didn’t feel good. After a stolen and prolonged minute of tantalising fingering he wondered how much better a knot plug would be.

 _No_. A real dick.

_An alpha dick with a wide knot._

Carl whined at the thought, shaking his head at himself for getting roped into fantasies. He peeked up at the door but it remained closed, and it was completely unlikely someone would just barge in. only Negan and the Wives were allowed to come in, and the latter always knocked first.

Weighing his chances, Carl kept pumping. He lowered his chest so he was on his elbow and stretched his arm back further. It gave him an inch or two more to slide in and squeeze around, reluctantly pretending it was a dick for some semblance of practice. 

He peered around the room, wondering if Negan kept sex toys for him to borrow, but Negan would prefer to be the first dick in him, flesh or plastic. He probably wouldn’t mind if Carl insisted, but the omega in Carl pulled its nose up to the idea of a knot plug when he had just had the real deal tongue fucking his mouth earlier.

Quickly he realised it just wasn’t enough. His fingers were neither long nor thick enough to do anything but tease him, and he was still overly paranoid about being caught, even if he had the excuse of being a dumb omega going through false heats. He changed tactics and stroked his cock again, and with three pumps he came into his underwear. 

He flopped over onto his back when the last of the waves rolled over, and closed his eye to rest.

XxXxXxXxXxXx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thaaaaank yooooouss more to cooooome lemmmmme know what youuuu thiiiiinkkk I reply soooooooon <3 <3 <3
> 
> No really I’ll reply to comments soon, I don’t even know if I received hate mail, I legitimately haven’t peeked at your comments since the first chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER RANT for WD S09:  
> I seriously don’t want to watch TWD anymore. No Maggie (and Glenn), no Rick, no Carl, Michonne is alone with 2 kids and Daryl’s been squatting in the woods all by himself for years with the hope that Rick is still out there. Like, fuck off?? If I wanted to be miserable I’d look at my own life. I thought I hated the show during the whole Negan arc but wow, they really showed me I can dig deeper. Wanna be happy? Watch B99 or Orville. Fantastic shows.

Carl woke up to someone tugging on his clothing. He twisted, hands going out in defense, but the person shushed him and stroked his cheek, and he caught Negan’s scent.

“Just trying get you changed into something fresh.”

Carl relaxed a little and grumbled, pulling away to huddle back into the bed.

“…Kid, come on, you stink like sex and heat.”

“Go away.” 

Negan stopped tugging at him and smacked his ass, winning Carl’s attention from the blanket.

“Not cool, Carl.” Negan scolded, brushing Carl’s hair back as Carl sat up and rubbed his eye.

“You going?” Carl asked.

“Going? I just got back. I’ve been gone half the day. Kinda felt bad but you had your own little party without me.”

Carl blinked, realising it was still the same day. That orgasm had knocked him right out.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“Don’t be sorry if you needed it.” Negan kissed his head, then tapped his arm. “But you gotta change.”

Carl conceded with a silent grumble. He pulled off his shirt and handed it over, but he needed a little help with his pants. The elastic at his waist fought with his sleepy fingers, so he let Negan pull them down for him. He felt a small rise of blush when he was naked, but Negan didn’t hover, letting him pull the blankets into his lap.

“We gotta get you some more clothes.” Negan said, looking through his own things when he decided what was in Carl’s bag wasn’t good enough.

Carl hummed, and looked back at the bed longingly.

“Here.” Negan threw a shirt at him. “Wear this.” 

Carl pursed his lips as it hit him in the face. When he pulled it off to put it on he noticed there was more fabric than is usual things. He frowned and looked at Negan who was clearly holding back a grin.

“Subs like to sleep in their alpha’s clothes.”

Carl didn’t like to think of himself as submissive, but when it came to Negan it really didn’t matter. Negan was the Alpha of alphas, everyone was submissive to him.

He gave Negan a look, but didn’t put much effort into it and put on the shirt. It was one of his white ones, round collared and plain but it was in good condition, fresh and smelling only faintly of Negan, leaving plenty of fabric to saturate. It was two sizes too big for Carl and long enough to reach his knees.

“Pretty.” Negan said. 

Carl gave him a zap sign, and collapsed over to the side, huffing sleepily into the bedding. He listened to Negan undress, a small tingle rising in his gut when he heard the boots come off. That meant Negan was staying in for the rest of the day—afternoon? Not knowing was somehow relaxing.

“Jeez, how many times did you cum?” Negan asked when he climbed in next to Carl. “You got the whole night to sleep. Daddy wants to play.”

“I’m just sleepy.” Carl said, flushing as Negan spooned behind him.

“How many times?” Negan repeated into his ear, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Just one… It’s been a while…”

Negan made a sound to say he understood and rubbed circles into Carl’s belly.

“The girls were worried about you today. They thought I ate you up. ‘Specially Sherry, she’s gone all mother hen on you, hasn’t she…”

Carl shifted back into Negan, hoping he could pass it off casually. 

“She’s cool.”

“She is _very_ cool. It makes me happy that you’re getting along.”

“Well, no one is gonna fight over you.”

“And I wouldn’t want that. I want all my Wives comfortable and safe.”

Carl thought about that for a while, revisiting the idea of life as a Wife; never leaving the safety of the compound, never knowing how to properly survive on your own. It still didn’t appeal to him, but there was no law against enjoying feeling comfortable and safe.

Negan kissed his shoulder. 

“Regretting this yet?”

“No.”

“Anything you want? Need?”

Carl pulled his lips in thought, but he was fuzzy and warm and aside from a snack, he wanted for nothing.

“Gonna get you some clothes. Maybe some sexy undies your size. I don’t think you have the hips to borrow from the girls.”

Carl fidgeted at the thought, especially as he was naked beneath the shirt he was wearing. He’d look ridiculous with wide hips, and he was glad it was something Negan couldn’t manipulate and change about him.

“No refunds…” he mumbled.

Negan laughed and hugged him tight. He kissed his cheek, his laughter reverberating into Carl’s skin pleasantly. Carl turned his head to acknowledge and scent Negan, the motion keeping him in the stupor. 

Negan held still when he recognised what Carl was doing and when Carl was done Negan did it too. Carl wriggled over so he was on his back.

“You smell like you’re in heat.” Negan said, without the sass or perversion. It was easy to forget that Negan wasn’t used to it either.

“I wish I didn’t.” Carl said, looking at Negan’s face but avoiding eye contact. “I never wanted to be an alpha but I don’t care for this either.”

“It’s a gift these days.”

Carl threw Negan a look. “You complain about it all the time.”

“Yeah, it’s shit to have the downsides during the apocalypse, but it doesn’t null out the good stuff.”

“No, you’re right. It’s a burden. I wish I wasn’t like this. What is the good stuff anyway? It’s just another hassle that I gotta live with now.”

“Presenting as omega was all the rage for the girls when I was a kid. Not so much for the boys, of course, people were just as shitty back then as they are now, just less openly violent. At least you don’t have to deal with that.”

“Still not hearing the good stuff for me.”

“Do you always get so depressed after cumming?”

“I dunno.” Carl looked away. Negan roped back his attention in full swing by grabbing his junk.

“Hey!” Carl squeaked, grabbing over Negan’s hand.

Negan grinned and squeezed, the fabric of the shirt doing absolutely nothing to mask the feeling. It was as close to skin on skin as they could get without removing the shirt altogether.

“You got a decent dick.” 

Carl panted, trying not to twitch or move and provoke Negan’s hand. He had a whole handful of him, cupping right over Carl’s balls in a way Carl might imagine Negan did to the Wives’ tits.

“Lucky you presented late or it’d be a lot smaller.”

Anticipating Carl’s response Negan cackled and blocked Carl’s swings and pinned Carl on his back so he could lean over and bite his shoulder. Carl jolted beneath him, a moan tearing its way from his throat.

“Don’t be mad, baby. I’ve got all the dick you need…”

Negan shifted up further and growled into his neck, and Carl broke out into a hot sweat, giving over control like someone flicked a switch.

“Bet you been thinkin’ about my dick, huh? Am I right?”

Carl squirmed tellingly, what was the point of lying? He let Negan mouth around his neck, hands clenching into fists on either side of his head. 

“…I’ve been thinking about your little pussy…”

Carl grunted, his cock springing to attention. He felt dirty, dirtier than ever as Negan breathed on him, pressed against him and started kissing his neck.

“That make you happy?” Negan asked, amused. “Huh? Tell Daddy. C’mon.”

Carl fought to keep his composure but he could feel the effects weighing down on him, heavier than he could handle. He ended up whining to avoid moaning, not that it was any more dignified, especially with Negan’s dirty talk.

“C’mon, Carl.” 

“What…?”

“Call me Daddy.”

“You’re sick.”

“Don’t be a smart ass. It’s a different kind of daddy. Just like you’re a different kind of baby…” 

Negan called his bluff easily, Carl had blushed one too many times at the name already. He was also still rock hard and straining towards Negan, and starting to smell of slick.

“Did you finger yourself when I left?”

Carl nodded, daring to make eye contact. Negan hummed and let go of Carl’s left wrist to reach down and play with the hem of his shirt.

“Was it good?”

Carl shook his head, reaching down to grab Negan’s wrist, but he didn’t push his hand away.

“No?”

“Not…its…”

Negan brushed his fingers over Carl’s knees, picking at the hem.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stay and help.”

But he was here now, just as Carl was. None of this was for nothing.

Carl blinked, looking over Negan’s face. He didn’t know what he was searching for, what was there to find? He knew who and what Negan was, and he made a choice to give himself over to it.

“…Do you…do you want to…?”

Negan cocked his brows.

Carl took a deep breath, and parted his knees. 

They looked down together and watched as the space between Carl’s grew, hesitating ever so innocently every few moments but always continuing, widening until he could release his hold on them, one knee resting against Negan’s legs, the other over the bedding. Aside from bearing his neck to Negan that very first time, this had to be the most vulnerable he’d ever been.

Negan’s eyes were dark and hungry like a famished predatory over a fresh kill. He kept looking up to see what Carl would do next, holding his hand still until Carl moved it.

“You can…” Carl tried, but it was hard to speak the words. He bit down on whatever courage he could muster and moved Negan’s hand down, handling his fingers so they pressed over the swell of his balls and into the soft, slippery flesh below.

“Baby…” Negan breathed, looked completely awed as Carl rubbed his fingers over the inside of his small cheeks first, and then flat over his hole.

“Jesus Christ…”

“You win.” Carl said, repeating what he had said the day he convinced Negan to this whole thing. He tentatively pulled his hand away, nodded to Negan’s questioning look. But Negan pulled his hand away too. 

“No, darling. You gotta tell me what you need or I might take advantage of you.”

Carl sighed, but there was no good argument to reply with. He took a moment, looking down and watching his cock tenting up again the shirt.

“…Finger me.”

Negan chewed his lip to reign down his grin, and put his hand back. “All right.”

Carl closed his eye and put his head back, shifting his thighs open one last time so Negan had enough space to work, and work he did. 

Negan rubbed his fingers in the lubricant collecting around his entrance, wetting his fingers thoroughly and teasing the soft, pliable flesh over and over, up and down, backwards and forwards until the hole was twitching and oozing a fresh dribble of slick. 

Carl moaned quietly, breathing deep into his stomach and letting the air out with as much control as he could while took in every new sensation Negan saw fit to give him. The strange, gnawing instincts inside him that told him _this is good, this is right, this is good_ , chanting dutifully, filling him with satisfaction and a conniving sense of serenity that mirrored that of being scruffed. His alpha was where he should be, between his omega’s legs.

_Not your alpha yet_

“Ready?” Negan circled the pucker with his index finger.

“…Yeah....”

Negan dipped in his finger, and Carl felt what it might be to be drunk.

“Shit, kid,” Negan whispered, kissing Carl’s shoulder as he sank knuckle deep, “that is heaven, right there.”

Carl nodded, fisting one hand in the sheets and the other in the shirt he wore, arms twisting.

Negan dipped his finger in and out a few times. The motion was fluid and wonderful, natural in the most unfamiliar ways and everything Carl’s inner animal yearned for.

Negan kissed his cheek, and Carl opened his eye and looked at him.

“You are so beautiful.” 

Carl nodded, slow at first, building in affirmation as he lifted his hips, meeting Negan’s hand.

“Shit. Shit…” Negan kissed him again, making his way to the corner of his mouth. “It’s like you’re in heat, but without the consequence.”

“More,” Carl nodded, shifting his body against Negan, “More.”

“ _This_ is the fucking good stuff.” Negan growled, adding a second finger.

 _For him_ , Carl thought, but saying the words, even spitefully, felt a little silly while he was stiff and wet and grinding down with little reservations. There was no use being a hypocrite and having Negan call him out on it, not when Negan could easily get up and leave to fuck someone else.

The second finger was a stretch equalling three of Carl’s, maybe more. Negan fucked them into him, twisting and scissoring in a way that Carl couldn’t with his own hand because of the angle. It felt both familiar and new, a deep probe that felt _right_. Negan was clearly practiced, setting up a confident rhythm without shame or hesitance, rubbing his fingers up against Carl’s walls each time he pulled out. Carl’s whole frame bounced as Negan used more force, driving a little deeper and harder each time until there was slick flicking out over his hand and Carl’s thighs.

“...You’re gonna look so good on my knot…”

Carl shuddered as the thought assaulted him to the core, exhaling hard as Negan purred against him, eye clenched tight. He pushed at Negan’s arm as it all became too much.

“Stop.”

Negan stopped, planting a lingering kiss under Carl’s jaw. 

“Need a break?” he asked, amused.

Carl nodded, shifting and trying not to squeeze around Negan’s fingers.

“…Can you…please.” Carl hinted, awkwardly, closing his thighs a little so it put pressure on Negan’s arm.

“Sure?” Negan asked, but to his credit, and Carl hated when that happened, Negan pulled out his fingers when Carl nodded. “You all right?”

Carl nodded again.

“Don’t wanna cum?”

Carl hesitated, glancing up. “…Should we…?”

Negan raised a brow.

“ _Mate_...” 

Negan hummed dark and low, looking down at his sticky hand, fingers glistening. “Learned about that?” 

“Yeah.”

Negan grinned at him. “Tell me what you learned.”

Carl pulled a face. 

“What, you shy now? C’mon. Humour me.”

Carl sighed, struggling to find a place to look that didn’t make him blush.

“I just...I dunno. I learned things. I can’t think right now…”

“You suck, kid.”

Carl blushed this time, trying fiercely not to think of _that_.

“…Scared to mate?”

Carl glanced up. Negan was looking at him, expression open and a little expectant.

“…Not really.” Carl said, shrugging with one shoulder.

“Learned what a knot is?”

“Duh.”

Negan put his hand on Carl’s belly, over the tip of Carl’s dick and beneath his navel. Carl held back a shiver.

“Ever seen one?”

“No? Where would I have seen one?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

“I haven’t.”

Negan smiled, tapping his fingers softly over Carl’s skin, not getting more of a reaction from Carl that a grouchy face.

“Think you ready for that stuff?”

Carl rolled his eye.

Negan mimicked him, and pulled away to flop over on his back.

Despite pulling a face, Carl looked over at him, and then down at himself, legs open and waiting, and apparently abandoned.

Negan saw it and laughed. 

“You can finish yourself off, kid.”

Carl’s brows popped.

“Do you do that to your other wives?” he bit.

“My other wives ask for what they want.”

“You just like people begging you.”

Negan looked at Carl in a huff, putting a hand on his chest.

“Rude, Carl.”

“ _You’re_ rude. I just needed a break, I didn’t want to stop.”

“And how am I supposed to know that if you don’t say so? It’s hard to tell what you want when you’re always bitching at me.”

“I don’t _bitch_. You started it.”

“Fuck, it’s like arguing with a child. It’s not a turn on, Carl.”

Groaning, Carl sat up, shirt falling over his thighs. “Can we just fuck already? Please?”

Negan didn’t respond. He tongued at his teeth, suddenly looking as frustrated as Carl felt—which was probably closer to the true than Carl realised. 

Here he was, an omega stinking of heat that had never been claimed, sitting all ruffled and wet in Negan’s shirt, and Negan was lying back like it wasn’t a big deal. But it was. Everyone said it was. Wasn’t it? He smelt like he was ready to fuck, to fuck an _alpha_ and get pregnant; that was the whole point of a heat. And here was Negan, an unmated alpha, the only alpha Carl would let between his legs, not demanding to have sex. Alphas were supposed to lose their shit and do whatever they could to fuck a heating omega, weren’t they? His dad had stressed that, Rosita had stressed that, the Wives and their sources had stressed that, so what was Carl supposed to get from this? Negan was hard to decipher at the best of times, but especially now when he wasn’t doing what an alpha was supposed to.

Maybe Carl wasn’t doing what _he_ was supposed to. He’d learned up on technicalities but he hadn’t exactly gone out to practice, and like hell he would. But maybe he needs to do more than just _let_ Negan do stuff to him. Omegas submit, alphas dominate, that was how it was, but it was hard not feel weak when submitting. And submitting to a man like Negan? How was he supposed to still be the fearless, gun slinging Carl Grimes? And how was he supposed to handle the growing gnaw of _wanting_ to be able to submit? Carl Grimes wasn’t and had never been submissive.

“You wanna fuck?” Negan asked abruptly, impatiently.

“Yeah.” Carl mirrored him.

Negan chewed his lip, looking Carl over. He tapped his temple in thought.

“Wannna play mate?”

“What’s that?”

“Rough housing, but with a bit of nasty.”

Carl looked confused, frowning harder as Negan chuckled.

“What? Missed that in study time?”

Carl ground his teeth. Just when he thought he’d caught up on everything he needed to handle this.

“C’mon, you’ll like it. It’s like fighting and fucking only it’s not real. They used to have ‘em back in the old days, teach you little punks how it all works, help you let off all the hormones in a constructive way. Hell, maybe that’s exactly what you need. Stop being so serious all the time.”

“…Is that a real thing or are you just fucking with me?”

“Whoa, Carl, _language_! And for your information, it is a real thing. You can ask your dad next time you see him.”

“You’d love that. Freak.”

The sting of Carl’s words was severely dampened as he climbed on top of Negan, dropping heavily onto his crotch just to watch him hiss. Negan was still fairly hard, and with a deep breath through the nose Carl could tell it was still current arousal.

“Looks like I’m not the only one.” Negan shot back, his hands going straight to Carl’s hips, baring his teeth.

“I _want_ to mate.” Carl said, almost ruefully, because he _did_. It would just be so much easier if it was with someone else. He pressed his lips together, steeling his shoulders and his pride, glaring down at Negan. He put his hands on Negan’s chest after a small debate. He dug his nails into Negan’s skin through the shirt, watching as Negan hissed again.

“Or play mating, rough housing, whatever. I could use some practice, I guess.”

Negan grinned, starting to grind up against him in small motions. 

“I just—” Carl swallowed down the words too fast and suspiciously, avoiding Negan’s eyes as he rose and dipped with Negan’s movements, his skin flushing.

Negan massaged his hips. “Go on.”

Shaking his head at the stupidity, at himself, Carl beat his fist into Negan’s chest, focusing on that.

“…I just don’t want to look weak. I know what I am here for but…just don’t make me be weak.”

Negan stopped Carl’s fist, shaking it until he got eye contact out of him, and he shifted up onto his ass to lean back against the bedpost, taking Carl with him.

“Did I ever say you were weak?” he asked, hitting his own fist into Carl’s chest in a way that made the answer obvious.

Carl hit him back. “No… But you call me a bitch.”

“Bitches are fucking fierce. We call women bitches when we can’t control them. And you’re my bitch. My cute, little, feisty bitch who gives me as good as he gets. I don’t think that’s weak. Do you?”

Carl chewed it over silently, sitting back in Negan’s lap as the man pawed at his bare thighs.

“You think I won’t respect you afterwards?” Negan asked. He sounded more amused than he should be especially when the words hit home.

“You’ll have _won_.” Carl looked up, trying to will Negan to be serious. “…And when it happens you got one more thing to hold against me. You wouldn’t understand. It’s not easy, okay? You try bending over for the enemy.”

“Listen here,” Negan grabbed him by the side of his neck, forcing eye contact, “If you don’t think you have my respect by being this, _here_ , then you’re an idiot. I’m not gonna coddle you, Carl, because I’m pretty sure I’ve been doing that _too fucking much_ as it is. Enjoying sex doesn’t make you weak, whatever side of it you’re on. And if you think bending over and giving me that little ass of yours is going to make you weak then I _really_ gotta put a pin in this and say adios.”

Carl blinked belatedly, fingers curling around Negan’s shirt as Negan started getting up, trying to move Carl off of him. 

“What?”

“You’re obviously not ready. I told you: when you want it, you’ll get it.”

Carl shoved Negan back in place.

“You just want me to beg, you asshole.”

As last ditch effort with Negan winning, Carl grabbed a handful of Negan’s hair and _pulled_ , yanking so they toppled over with Negan on top again.

“I am _not_ begging.” Carl hissed, wrapping his arms around Negan’s neck before he could escape, and pressed their lips together.

He kissed Negan with all his might, slipping his tongue between Negan’s lips without a care for who was the alpha here. He took the led furiously, moaning when he felt Negan melt into it.

“ _You_ should beg _me_.” Carl said when he broke away for a breath, “I’m the one with the _good stuff_.”

Negan laughed against his lips, warm and heartfelt. “You’d love that. Freak.”

Carl laughed too, his heart giving one of those stupid flutters as he pressed up for more kisses. Negan obliged, letting him take the lead and set the pace, holding himself over Carl with ceaseless strength.

When Carl had his fill he broke away with a sigh, breathing hard against Negan’s lips. He taunted Negan with a few empty kisses, pulling back just because he could, smirking when the alpha growled. The sound put a warm tingle in his stomach, reminding him of the erection between his legs. _Both_ of them.

“Teach me.” Carl said, “Teach me how to mate.”

Negan groaned against his face, grinding down against his hip, smelling _delicious_. 

“Alpha.” Carl said a little softer, to humour his screaming instincts. To add the cherry on top he turned his head and bared his neck, lifting his body in a soft arch into Negan. All the little lessons and advice from the Wives rang through his head, reminding him of everything an omega should do with an alpha. For the moment he held most of it at bay; he needed to be Carl first. And more than anything, it helped that he _knew_ that Negan would want that too.

He watched as Negan’s nostrils flared, his eyes dilating into black circles as he ground his teeth like it was the only thing keeping him from biting Carl right there and then.

Even though the motion was simple Carl had doubted it, but with Negan suddenly a rumbling bear on top of him he felt a little more confidence in it. He didn’t feel quite so ridiculous and not as weak as he thought he might. If anything, he felt a little sexy. He’d never felt _sexy_ before.

“I’ll teach you whatever you want.” Negan promised, and Carl put that away for later, for more important things. For now he wriggled up, giving Negan the submission that was—to Carl’s surprise—working on Negan more than the reverse. 

“Please… _Daddy_.”

Negan lost it. He flipped Carl over in a second, lifting him onto his hands and knees, and wrapped a hand around his hair.

“Don’t you ever cut this.” Negan said into his ear, pulling his hair to bare his neck. Carl tried to breathe evenly as Negan moulded against him from behind, pressing up against his ass crudely and draping himself across his back. He pushed up to meet Negan’s weight, always trying to prove himself, but Negan wasn’t Negan if he didn’t use his own strength to keep Carl exactly where he wanted him.

“Most of us fuck like us.” Negan said, sounding a little more coherent than Carl wanted. “Easiest to fuck and knot.”

He let go of Carl’s hair and pushed his head down into the pillow, forcing him to his elbows. “And a damn good view.” He added as he leaned back when he was satisfied that Carl wouldn’t move, caressing Carl’s waist and hips through the shirt.

Carl panted, hair splayed over into the pillow, fists beneath his chin. It was weird having such a dangerous man put him in this position, but it even weirder knowing that he was in no harm. Carl couldn’t tell where the feeling came from, but he chalked it up to instincts. He hoped he wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t doubt it enough to turn over—which was as close to insanity as he’d ever been considering who was behind him.

Negan took hold of his hips and pressed him back as he ground forward and made the motion of sex against him.

Carl moaned and arched, the feeling going straight into his core like a bolt of lightning.

“Yeah, feels nice, huh?” Negan murmured, straight out rubbing off against him. 

Before Carl could catch his breath Negan covered Carl’s body again and nuzzled against the back of Carl’s neck. His arms remained on Carl’s hips as he ground forward, scraping just a hint of his teeth against Carl’s skin, so close and yet so, so far from the primal marking area.

It was Carl’s turn to lose it when Negan ripped the shirt up and exposed his ass. He bundled it over Carl’s shoulders and rutted against his bare ass, eyes down and glued between them.

Carl let out a sound he wasn’t used to, clawing at the sheets as he scrambled back up on his hands. He hung his head, moaning, and arched a little more, listening to his body even as it made him flush hot when his cheeks spread a little, something Negan wouldn’t miss with the way he was staring.

“Fuck.” Negan swore, rutting harder, closer. The grip of his hands started to hurt but it was nothing Carl couldn’t handle. He wasn’t weak.

“Finger me.” He ordered, wriggling back. 

Negan growled and Carl smiled, biting his lip to fend off a moan as Negan did as he was told and slipped two fingers into him. It was painfully clear he was still soaking wet but at least _something_ about him was normal.

Kicking up the pace, Negan pumped his fingers into him in rhythm with the thrusting of his hips. It almost felt like the real thing, and for Carl’s inexperienced body it was close enough. 

He shouted out and moaned, unashamed, pleasure burning through him as he pretended it was really happening—and fuck it was good. He couldn’t remember why the real thing wasn’t happening instead but he wasn’t about to stop this. He thrust his hips back with the small space Negan gave him. He growled, glancing over his shoulder and rolling his hips until Negan relented and let him dictate the pace. He slammed back, feeling sufficiently stretched and in control to placate both his instincts and his heart.

Negan slapped his ass hard, making his movement stutter. “Care for a change of position?” 

Carl shook his head, trying to get back the rhythm.

Negan leaned over, digging his fingers in deep as he crushed his hand between his jeans and Carl’s ass. “Don’t wanna get back on top?”

The effort seemed greater than the reward, but when Negan pulled away and started unbuckling his pants Carl couldn’t help turning over.

Negan grinned, shucking off his jeans and boxers. He pulled his shirt off last, kneeling up in front of Carl, a big naked alpha. And, well, Carl had seen his first knot now, sort of.

Negan took himself in hand, tongue wiping over his bottom lip. He stroked, tip to root, his fingers spreading slightly over the forming knot.

Carl stared, mouth suddenly dry. It was a big dick, and maybe he understood now why omegas had to get so wet.

“I’m all yours.” Negan said, dropping next to Carl, patting his thighs.

Carl shifted, not sure if he wanted to drag his fingers through all the coarse dark hair peppered across Negan’s skin or just keep staring at his dick. He looked at Negan once before taking the direction and climbing into his lap, hesitating for a moment before settling himself, skin to skin, pressing their cocks and balls together.

“Shit…” he whispered, closing his eyes at the feeling.

“Ditto, kid…”

It took Carl a while to calm his racing heart enough to control his body like this. It was filthy and lewd, maybe even more than the first position. Carl knew his face must’ve said it all but Negan was distracted too, his hands drifting up beneath the shirt to Carl’s waist.

“Do _you_ like this position?” Carl asked, watching Negan’s hands.

“Yeah. You’ll like it too. You can do what you want from there.”

Carl nodded, trying to picture it for future reference. 

“Try.” Negan said, curling his hands back over the swell of Carl’s ass. “Rub off on me.”

Losing a little of his sanity at those words, Carl did as suggested. He rolled his hips forward, and the pleasure was immediate. Simple but instantaneous and _dirty_. Negan was so much _more_ , in every way. His cock was bigger, and the thick pubic hair he had brushed roughly against Carl’s merger offerings, scratching his thighs in a way Carl might imagine his beard doing as he’d once overheard two of the wives discussing. 

“That’s it, baby.” Negan praised, squeezing his ass as Carl rubbed their cocks together.

Carl nodded, biting his bottom lip as he tried to watch. He bunched the shirt in his hand and lifted, holding it against his stomach as he moved, lips parting at the sight.

“I know.” Negan said, lifting his hips. He brought a hand back around and spread it across Carl’s stomach. It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did, and it was nothing compared to the feeling when Negan wrapped his hand around both of their dicks.

“ _Negan_. Fuck. Fuck…” Carl tried to stay upright, his hips bucking.

Negan put Carl’s hands over his and motioned for him to jerk them off using Negan’s hand. Carl moaned brokenly, already struggling to keep it together as an orgasm knocked on the door, but he took the offer and ran with it. He brought Negan’s hand back as he fucked forward.

As he did that Negan grabbed a handful of his butt again, dipping a finger in between his cheeks to rub hard at his hole.

“Fucking beautiful.” Negan growled, grinding his teeth again.

Carl worked that into the rotation, pressing back against the finger teasing his ass after rolling his hips and fucking into Negan’s fist, taking Negan’s throbbing cock along for the ride. A minute in he wasn’t the only one leaking, Negan’s alpha scent becoming overwhelming as his cock spat thick, white precum. 

A shot of adrenaline and need went through Carl hard enough to make him wince, eye boring down as he worked Negan’s hand, adding a little more of his own fingers in a messy tangle until he couldn’t tell if the fluid was his or Negan’s.

“Fuck. I’m gonna cum,” Negan grunted suddenly, rising up. Carl’s heart skipped a beat, already trying to slip his hands around Negan’s knot but the man had other ideas, and flipped them over again in a way that was starting to make Carl subconscious about his weight.

He bounced against the bedding, legs falling open with Negan between them. Negan pushed the shirt up under Carl’s chin, brushing his thumbs over Carl’s nipples roughly as he made his way back down. Carl arched, grabbing onto Negan’s wrists to follow, but Negan repositioned his hands around his neck, shifting up close, and Carl could feel every hair on Negan’s thighs and belly brush against his.

“This is my favourite one. Get to watch your pretty faces while I fuck the soul outta you.”

Lost for words and at least three rounds of air, Carl moaned behind grit teeth, wrapping his legs around Negan’s hips as the alpha got in place, reach between them.

Negan rubbed his cock in the slick accumulating between Carl’s cheeks, wetting his cock before pressing flush against him like before.

“Let me know which one _you_ prefer.” Negan said with a wink as he leaned over on his hands, nose to nose, and started fucking.

Carl forsook his pride, his hold on control, his very mind, and let Negan tear it all apart, all without tearing his body apart. He just held on as Negan thrust against him like it was the real thing, grunting and whispering against his lips about tight he was, how soft he was, how sexy he was, all things Carl wished didn’t turn him on. But they did, and he pulled Negan closer, nodding when Negan asked if it was good, if he could take more, and if he wanted more. It was terrible, traitorous and nothing short of toxic and Carl wanted it all. 

One bounce too much and Carl couldn’t take anymore, cumming hard and absolutely ruining the bedding with Negan’s help. Negan sped up at the added lubricant, fucking through the sticky messy as though he was actively trying to splatter it everywhere with the most obscene, sloshing sounds.

Carl cried tears as Negan slammed him through his orgasm, digging bloody crescents into whatever skin he could cling to. 

Words couldn’t explain the divine satisfaction that washed through Carl like a poison. It told him he was where he should be during his heats, with an alpha who could quell the fire and take it all away with a need that would rival his own.

Negan’s orgasm was loud and directed into Carl’s neck like an animal warning off competition from his prey. It was an instinctual sound, one Carl thought was an alpha version of the sounds he sometimes made, and it immediately made him expect a claiming mark. He couldn’t tense up more than he already was so he just dug his nails in deeper, preparing for the pain and whatever followed. 

But Negan didn’t mark him, he just nuzzled and mouthed at his skin until Carl realised Negan was lapping up their splattered cum.

This time when the omegan sound left his lips Carl didn’t try to stop it. It was guttural and almost ugly, but it was filled with an approval that even Carl could recognise. 

Negan grabbed his jaw and slotted their lips together, giving Carl a mouthful of tongue and cum. He kissed Carl until they were both out of breath, rocking out the last of their orgasms.

All Carl could think as the high wore down was that something was definitely wrong with him for feeling empty when Negan got off him without leaving a claiming mark. 

**XxXxXxXxXxXx**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. Literally actually writing a novel, had to buckle down and be serious (I've been trying for 7 seven years no joke). But here’s an update and you got smut so forgive...??
> 
> THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT I am finally getting around to reading your comments <3 <3 <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, smut ahead. For the record Negan is not a ‘good’ guy. This isn’t an example of what a good relationship is. If you are a grown ass adult, DON’T have relationships with teens even if they are 18. Keep your fantasies as fantasies. It’s gross in real life, not sexy or kinky or whatever.

Negan was tiring. Play mating with Negan was _exhausting._

It kept Carl from dwelling on his inner demons but it brought other nuisances to the surface, far more than he could filter though properly. Hearing from others about the interactions between an alpha and an omega were nothing compared to experiencing it first-hand. Just like the Wives wouldn’t understand Carl until they left the shelter Negan provided, Carl hadn’t understood the gravity of his situation until he let go and fell into it. 

Negan did endeavour to help him understand, though, often slacking off on his duties to corner Carl with a sadistic smile that really wasn’t as dangerous as he pretended. Their encounters usually started in public where the Saviours and their families stood around whispering and pretending not to see the dance of their leader and his new omega wife. But Carl saw them, he saw them watching and waiting for something to snicker about. But they never did get it, Negan never pushed Carl further than what he knew he could handle, and nor did he coddle him.

Carl grunted as Negan shoved him into the wall, breathing down his neck. Carl pushed against the wall to keep both of their weights from crushing him, digging his forehead into the wall as he tried to slow his own breathing. He’d run twice through these hallways and shoved past multiple Saviours but Negan had longer legs and he knew this place like the back of the hand. There was no proper space for a mating run, but there was plenty for play mating.

And _fuck_ , Carl loved it—all aspects of it.

“Get off.” He ordered, jerking back against Negan’s solid stature. He added an elbow into Negan’s gut, grinning at the grunt he earned. 

“Teasy tease.” Negan whispered, curling his hand through Carl’s hair. Carl tried but Negan was stronger, firmly but carefully peeling Carl’s head back to expose his neck.

“You should be dealing with that thief,” Carl reminded, pushing harder so he was flattened against Negan, shamelessly absorbing his heat and scent like a leech. A week into this and Carl couldn’t remember what it felt like to hate being chased and tackled.

“I’d kinda like to see how you’d deal with him, Carl. You’re not the rough-it-up kind’a guy. You’re more of the cutting-off-fingers kind’a guy, aren’t you? My little psycho…” 

Carl stood on Negan’s foot and twisted his head free when Negan stumbled back. He spun and shoved Negan into the wall behind them, yanking on Negan’s jacket as he stood on his toes to even out their height, and challenge their community’s Alpha. 

They usually started off like that, Negan letting Carl shove and growl and hiss for everyone to see and share their little comments about Negan’s future serial killer. Carl didn’t mind, it kept the others from interfering with him when they watched him tussle with Negan around the compound. They looked at Negan like he was losing it, and they looked at Carl with a mixture of disgust and fear. Only an actual psycho would punch Negan in the face and then immediately bare their throat for Negan to growl into and nip. But they also didn’t understand what Carl did, and he had no desire to explain to them that he was just about the only asshole alive that could get away with it. He liked seeing the horror on their faces when he shoved Negan around, it made him feel dangerous in a way that more than just for survival, and he did not hate it.

He liked it a bit _too_ much.

“I knew you’d be a freak in the sheets.” Negan would murmur, wincing when Carl dug his nails into his back, or bit at his shoulder or just down right take out his frustrations on Negan. Negan never minded. The wilder Carl became the more docile Negan became, almost as if they were trading places, and only Negan was as over the moon as he was about it. The Saviours were unnerved, the civilians were uncomfortable, and the Wives were worried. 

Carl was worried too…but not enough to stop what was happening. 

Within a week he was addicted. Negan’s scent, his voice, his hold, it was all a terrible addiction since Carl had tasted his and Negan’s fluids mixed and shared between their tongues. It made Carl shiver and arch, keen and growl, swear and beg. But to his consolation, it brought Negan to his knees as much as it did to Carl. Negan’s eyes would glaze over and become black caverns, hungry and empty no matter how much of Carl he tried to consume, like a drunk at a bar.

A junkie and an alcoholic wrestling their addictions until both of them were on their backs, neither winning, but neither losing. What was winning? What was losing? There was only adapting, and the only thing Carl tried to remember why he was doing this in the first place.

He did it for his family. He just wasn’t _supposed_ to be enjoying it. 

“Are you okay?” Sherry would ask, the other wives glancing around whatever they were doing to eavesdrop.

“Yeah.” Carl would shrug, nod, and shrug some more. He didn’t share with them the sordid details of what was developing, but he did hear from them that Negan would fuck them senseless every night, all because of Carl. 

Carl hadn’t _asked_ yet, and Negan hadn’t pressed. Play mating was intense enough for Carl as it was. It left him wet and aching, deeply satisfied after an orgasm with Negan wrapped around him like the possessive alpha he was. It seemed to be enough for Negan too, he seemed quite happy with the arrangement of cumming in his pants after rutting feverously against Carl’s backside when he finally pinned him down. Carl was pretty sure he was ready to go all the way but Negan seemed to enjoy tearing him apart without it, fully clothed and all. 

It didn’t _bother_ Carl when he learned Negan would go and fuck the ladies to compensate for not sticking it in Carl, but it did make him wonder what it would feel like to just do it. Negan’s fingers were thick and rough and enough when he drove them into Carl, his mouth enough when he sucked on Carl’s neck, his body enough when he pressed and rubbed against Carl’s body. If this was good, how good would the real thing be?

He loved when he bared his neck and Negan lavished it in kisses and bites. He loved when he glanced over his shoulder to silently beckon Negan over and the man have curl around him and run his hands down his body. He loved when he turned over on the bed and dipped head so his hips lifted, turning Negan into a rutting animal that still had enough control to keep it in his pants. Negan was all about control, whether it was over his people or himself. Control was a good quality in an alpha. If anything, it was what _made_ an alpha.

Carl’s false-heats didn’t go away and they took full advantage of it. The doctor insisted there was nothing to worry about as long as Carl stuck to his medication, leaving—as Negan phrased it—all the ‘good stuff’ to enjoy. Carl constantly smelt of heat and Negan’s lust, latter of which was pretty good at keep at bay the other alphas lurking about. They looked, but they kept their distance. Carl saw the desire lurking behind the disdain in their eyes, and he knew that if Negan wasn’t in charge he would be Target Number One. But it wasn’t only the scent of Negan that kept their hands in their pockets, and Carl made sure they all knew what he was capable of when he glared at them through the hallways.

At least that was something his father would be proud of. It was hard to think of him, he was probably worried sick. Hopefully he wasn’t planning anything stupid, _surely_ he wasn’t. Carl couldn’t wait for three months to be over without incident so he could see his family again and know that everybody would be okay, that this would _work_. 

 

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

 

“Your dad’ll come.”

Carl thumped his head back against Daryl’s cell.

“I hope not… Try not to get in trouble again. He wouldn’t let you out, even for me.”

Daryl’s laughter from behind the door was cold and distant, and Carl wondered if Daryl had heard anything about him. He tried not to think of it.

“Please.” He begged. “You need to get back to Alexandria and you can’t if you’re stuck in here all the time.”

“So do you. We’ll get out, both’ve us.”

That wasn’t likely, but Carl didn’t come here to argue. Daryl was due out in a day and Carl wanted to remind him not to get himself locked up again. It was a small comfort to have someone he considered family nearby, but it was dampened with that person incarcerated. Daryl shouldn’t be here anyway, but Carl couldn’t plead his case until Daryl wasn’t in the doghouse.

 

“You’re doing well.” The doctor said, giving back Carl’s wrist.

Carl wrung it, leg bouncing. “What else can I be?”

“I mean physically. There’s not much I can do about your mental state…”

Carl gave him a look. “I’m fine.”

The doctor made a noncommittal sound, scribbling something in Carl’s file.

“Have you kept track of your false heats?”

“It’s happening once every second day or so now.” 

“It’s slowing down. That’s good.”

“It’s something.” Carl slid off the examining table, sighing, “Hey, um, what if it doesn’t stop? I mean, what _if_?”

The doctor raised his brows and whistled silently. 

“Let’s hope not, but _if_ that happens, all we can do is keep you on the pills.”

“Okay, but what about the…effects?”

“The symptoms? They should stop, eventually. But…”

“But?”

“But if they don’t,” the doctor fidgeted, “It might take a full heat to clean the slate.”

Carl sighed again and rubbed his face. Heats only came around every three months for a reason; having them every day was taking its toll on its body. That didn’t even include his fooling around with Negan, who didn’t seem as drained as he was by the end of the week, even with him visiting his wives, the bastard. Well, Carl would just have to show him. One day.

“It will probably even end as soon as you and Negan…” the doctor cleared his throat, swivelling a hand to hint.

Carl touched his shoulder. 

The doctor smiled, lips drawn tight. “Medically speaking. But give it another week or so, I’m sure it’ll ease off.”

Carl nodded, scratching where his claiming mark should be. 

“Well, all done here. Better report to Negan. He wants you in good health.”

Carl rolled his eyes and headed off with a mumble of thanks. He avoided the wives’ lounge and dawdled his way back to the room he shared with Negan. Negan hadn’t said a word about moving him since the first conversation and frankly Carl wasn’t in a rush to bring it up, as bad as that was. Even while dwelling on that, Carl made his way back into Negan’s bed on autopilot. He almost couldn’t stomach going anywhere else. 

“What’s the verdict?” Negan asked later on after he’d clocked off for the day, throwing together a snack.

Carl sat on the edge of the bed, lightly swinging his feet. “Everything’s fine.”

“That’s good news. I like good news.”

“Uh huh.” 

Negan looked at Carl over his shoulder, cracking open a beer. He shook it at Carl. “Want one?”

Carl took a moment to answer. “…I don’t think so. I dunno.”

“You gotta be more decisive.” Negan took a drink, taking over a plate of crackers to Carl. “How old are you now? One beer won’t get you buzzed or anything.”

Carl shrugged. He took the plate from Negan, and before Negan turned he grabbed the beer can too. Negan raised a brow and smirked, letting go and heading back to get another.

“You look a little off.” Negan said as he came back with his food and collapsed back onto his chair. “PHSing?”

“What?”

“Take a drink.”

Carl lifted the beer and drank, face drawing tight. Soda was strange enough on the tongue these days due to the scarcity, but beer was worse.

“C’mon, tell me. What’s got your knickers in a twist?”

“Nothing.” Carl stuffed a few crackers into his mouth and chewed noisily, instigating a staring contest with Negan who popped his brows deviously over his own beer.

“Need a little something-something?”

“ _No_.” Carl almost laughed, forcing it down to a smile as he washed down the food with another sip. “I’m good, _thanks_ …”

“Up to you.” 

“Don’t you ever get tired? Jeez…”

Negan laughed from his stomach. “Ooh, is that’s what’s wrong? Am I tiring you out, kid? Getting beat by an old man?”

“You wish.” Carl squinted, shoving in another mouthful and taking another drink to hide the flush on his cheeks. 

Negan drank too, stretching out his legs. “Give me a pinch when I’m overstepping.”

“It’ll take more than a pinch to get you off.” Carl snorted, but another smile eased over his face as the whole topic floated between them as easy as the weather. “…But you’re pretty good without it.”

Negan smiled, smug and fat-headed, more than usual, and that was saying something.

“I’m not so bad, am I?”

Carl deadpanned. “Depends on the situation.”

“Sure. And in this situation, I’m not so bad.”

Carl rolled his eyes and let out a long suffering sigh, but there was no arguing. Negan was right. 

“So doc says you’re fine?”

Carl nodded.

Negan munched on a cracker, the toes of his boots knocking together. “Maybe we should get him to send your dad a note. He’s been quiet lately.”

“I hope so.” Carl chewed on the inside of him lip, hoping that meant good news instead of bad. 

“I’m seeing him tomorrow. Do you want to write your own?”

Carl looked up sharply, heart almost leaping from chest. 

“Tomorrow…?”

“Yep. Don’t worry, I got a feeling everything’ll be fine.”

 _It better be_ , Carl thought at both his father and Negan. He’d done too much for this to be undone. How that was possible without being mated was crazy, but Negan had a way of sullying even the most innocent of things.

“Don’t start anything.” He blurted, extremely aware of the pulse in his throat, and the sudden pitch of his voice.

Negan looked affronted. “Write that down for your dad.”

“I will, but I’m telling you too.” Carl took a breath and softened his tone. “We _can’t_ mess this up.”

“Carl, it’ll be fine.”

That was doubtful. Possible, but doubtful.

“Look, if we’re bonded by the next time I go, you can come with. All right?”

Carl’s attention perked again. If Negan allowed that it would be breaking the contract’s guidelines, but it would allow Carl to see his family in a week if he was quick about it—maybe even tomorrow if he got naked right now. In theory it sounded great, but it would raise uncomfortable questions if he popped up with Negan ahead of schedule. He didn’t need everyone knowing he’d boned Negan within two weeks of being there. He could still find some privacy in the three month period. Still, he missed his dad. He missed Michonne. He missed _Judith_. And he was still worried about them. This whole thing had only just begun. They were nowhere near safe from Negan yet, there was no resting until they were…

“ _How_ is this complicated?” Negan nagged as Carl dragged on the silence, lost in his thoughts.

“…I’ll wait.” Carl said, nonchalantly. “But I want something.”

“Am I gonna like it?”

“Probably not, but I think I deserve it.”

Negan sighed through his nose, downing the last of his beer. He nodded for Carl to continue, gaze out the window.

“I want you to send Daryl back—”

“God, I knew it.”

“What do you need him for? You have enough guys.”

“It’s the principal, Carl. And not just for me, but our deal. Tell me your little your posse won’t get any ideas when he’s back all in one piece ready to rumble. That boy’s got some crazy fire in him that I haven’t stomped out yet and I can bet you he’ll come sneaking right back with your dad in tow to slit my throat.”

“They won’t.”

“They could.”

“But they won’t.” Carl snapped. “If they do then it’s me they’re betraying.”

A peculiar look came across Negan’s face as he rubbed his fingers across his mouth. “…They could still do it—”

‘Then all of this is for nothing! I’ll be mated to you for nothing. They wouldn’t do that to me.”

Negan sat up and leaned forward, eyes blazing in a manner than almost made Carl lean back even with the wide berth between them. 

“Let me tell you something. If the roles were reversed I would absolutely rather have my kid back with me even if he or she was bonded, pregnant and knot-addicted to a dead man than leave them stuck with my enemy. You’re not a parent, and you’re not an alpha, so you don’t get it. Trust me. I have my reasons for the things I do, and so does your dad.”

Carl’s stomach churned, clenching and threatening him with a second taste of the food he’d scarfed down. He shook his head lightly, avoiding eye contact as the words buzzed dangerous close to something vital to his beliefs. It had been a worry, but until now only in passing. His father wouldn’t do that to him, he _couldn’t_. Carl was putting it all on the line for peace, he’d begged his father to comply, even if Carl was stuck with the enemy. It wasn’t going to be a quick fix but it would be a solid one if Carl could play his part, but he couldn’t do that if he was worrying about his efforts being in vain. He couldn’t go home _knot-addicted_ to Negan and thank his father for _saving_ him and go on to live happily ever after. He’d always be the idiot who gave in to the enemy instead of fighting like a man to the bitter end. He didn’t think he could handle that. It might just kill him.

“It will be okay.” Negan said as he leaned a little to regain Carl’s attention, pronouncing each word properly, almost soothingly. 

Tears shot up before Carl could stop them, falling down his cheeks as the phantom pain hit him hard. He took a deep breath through his cheeks and swiped at his face as he jumped to his feet and headed for another beer.

Negan caught him on the way even as he tried to veer away, and he pulled Carl between his legs.

“Hey, relax. I said they could, not will. I’m a rational guy. I like to plan out possibilities, that’s all.”

“They _can’t_.” Carl insisted even though he knew he was preaching to the quire. He wiped his tears away, unable to break the scowl on his face as Negan kneaded his hips.

“Shit, baby, I don’t like when you cry.” Negan said, almost pouting. He pulled Carl into his lap, hushing him about the beer and made Carl straddle his thighs. He fiddled with the bandage around Carl’s head when Carl gave in and sat silently, moving on to playing with Carl’s hair. “…What can I do to make it up? For real.”

Carl tried not to smile as Negan poked his ribs. He shrugged and shook his head, batting Negan’s hands away, but holding onto them so they weren’t far.

“I still haven’t gotten you anything. Come on, ask. Sherry got the prettiest damn pair of shoes I’ve ever seen. Did you see ‘em? The ones with the sparkles on the side of the heel?”

“I don’t want shoes,” Carl said as if Negan was stupid.

“But she did and she got them because she knows how to ask. So what do you want?”

Carl looked up as he tried to think. Nothing came to mind, his hobbies were guns and target practice and he was fine wearing the same two pairs of jeans for eternity. He just wanted this whole nightmare to end, even if Negan was still there at the end of it.

“…I can’t think of anything...”

Negan rolled his eyes. “You make this real hard, you know that? The ladies are easy to please compared to you. You’d think a bunch of women would give you more problem than one bratty teen.”

Carl shrugged apathetically. Negan groaned and thumped his head back against the backrest.

“Really. I don’t want anything. I dunno. Just get more books for us to read.” Carl grumbled.

“ _Can_ you read?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Carl hit Negan in the stomach, “I’m not stupid.”

“I didn’t ask if you were stupid, moron. You must’ve been in what, fifth grade, when everything went to shit? Reading hasn’t been the priority.”

“I can read enough.”

“Get you some Lord of Flies, that Green Eggs and Ham and whatnot. Get back some of your childhood.”

Carl’s expression twisted. “My childhood is gone. That would be weird.”

“Yeah,” Negan murmured, eyes distant, “suppose be a bit.”

Carl picked at a thread, trying to remember those books and not the multiple reasons why he was no longer a child. He only vaguely remembered the one about green eggs from when his mom read it to him at night, even when he tried to insist he was a big boy. He’d never been so wrong.

“…Just get whatever you can find. Judith needs them.”

Negan nodded. “I can do that. A leader needs to read. People _and_ words.”

Carl cocked a brow. “Judith?”

“She’ll probably take over for your dad when she’s grown. By then all our differences should be settled and you two can handle business for me while I sit back and enjoy my golden years.”

“Sounds easy,” Carl didn’t mean it as sarcastically as it came out, he really did hope his words rang true. His dad was getting older and weaker at no fault of his own, he would need a trustworthy successor. It should have been Carl, but that position would have to fall to Judith, and Carl wasn’t exactly thrilled about it. Every leader had enemies, but Carl couldn’t imagine someone plotting to kill his sister. She’d either have to become the part or relinquish it to someone else. He wasn’t sure which he preferred.

“I wonder what weapon she’ll favour.” Negan said, grinning ear to ear. Carl’s proverbial hackles rose. Negan caught the look and chuckled. “What?”

“She can use a gun for self-defence. Michonne can teach her to use the sword too. She doesn’t need anything else.”

Negan held his hands up. “I didn’t say anything.”

“She’s not going to be like us, okay? If everything works out then she won’t have to be. Right?”

Negan’s demeanour dropped and he cupped Carl’s face. He smoothed his thumbs over Carl’s cheeks and pulled his face close. Carl hesitated a little in his grasp but he allowed it, quiet as Negan drew him in to plant a kiss on his forehead.

“We can’t shield her, but yeah, she’ll be better than us.”

Carl nodded, brushing noses with Negan. Negan nudged his face against Carl, his hands falling to Carl’s neck. 

It was the strangest thing. Those hands had caused so much destruction, but they had also created and protected. Selectively, of course, but who wasn’t these days? Carl should hate these hands, he should fear them, and he did, but clearly not enough if he found a muted sense of comfort with them curled around his neck. They created a barrier around his neck, not a rope.

“Kiss?” Negan asked, ghosting his lips over Carl’s.

Carl swallowed before he edged his lips against Negan’s, his eye fluttering at the scratch of Negan’s whiskers. Negan smiled into it and returned every kiss at a careful, languid pace, his fingers dipping into Carl’s hair and twirling around the soft locks. Carl let Negan urge him closer and turned his head when Negan directed, lifting and inching a little closer so his crotch was pressed against Negan’s stomach.

Before it became heated Negan broke off, going back to Eskimo kisses as he ran his hands down Carl’s chest. 

“Wouldn’t mind you in a pair of heels—”

“I wouldn’t mind if you shut up.”

 

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

 

Carl spent the following day drowning in thick, murky nerves. He’d barely slept the previous night, imagining worst case scenarios all the while Negan snored the hours away, not a care in their godforsaken world. And when Carl did sleep he wasn’t luck enough to black out completely; Lucille spent every minute in his dreams. He woke up in much the same state as he had fallen asleep, agitated and anxious, twice so with the lack of sleep.

Every kiss they shared (no matter how sweet or gentle) before they fell asleep lost its power as the reality of what was to come set in. He’d had no idea Negan was making a visit so soon, he’d thought Simon would be sent instead—which wasn’t ideal, but it would be slightly better with the whole ‘being Negan’s’ thing. 

He watched Negan dress that morning with a strange kind of vacant presence, hearing the screaming in his head but unable to pass it on to the target. How could someone who could wrap him up in his arms and make him feel safe also be his biggest threat?

He squeezed Negan’s wrist as the man kissed him and the ladies goodbye, staring him hard in the face to remind him not to hurt anyone. He’d tried and failed all morning at opening his mouth and _bitching_ at Negan, but what else was left to say? Negan’s response to his awkward hovering was to pat his cheek and strut off with one of his cocky grins, leaving Carl to gnaw on his nails in the harem lounge, quickly overflowing with regret.

Eventually it took hard, disgusting liquor from the bar to calm him down enough sit in one place instead of pacing the room and annoying the wives. It was just another day for them when Negan went out on check-ups, but for Carl it was a certified nightmare. After Frankie snapped at him for tripping over her feet Amber introduced him to a drink called Mudslide. Three of those later and he was hunched over the bar counter with Sherry rubbing his back and blowing her cheeks full of air. Amber joined him shot for shot and held it slightly better for a while, but an hour later they fought over the toilet to heave it all out. It was a hell of a waste that would make most of the men in the compound scream, but Carl had zero fucks to give until Negan came home without blood on his bat and not a moment sooner. 

The wait for Negan’s return from Alexandria was almost as bad as the evenings of negotiations, but now he had no one to be strong for. The women understood his predicament, and Sherry gave him a scolding look when he was officially drunk and fiddling with his eye socket like it was the first time he’d noticed it. By then he was bitter and lethargic but still trying to imagine how the meeting was going.

Were they arguing? Were they fighting? Did his dad have the quota for Negan, or was he waiting with a gun up his sleeve? Was he okay? Or was he not okay? What would define ‘not okay’, Because Carl split vodka all over his favourite La-Z-Boy and that was _not okay_. Nothing was okay. Nothing about this was okay and he was freaking _the fuck out_. It was like all of his calm since day one had been one big farce slowly boiling in a pit deep in his stomach until the steam burst through the cracks in his façade, burning every bit of control he thought he’d gained.

Everyone must be dead by now. They were _dead_. Negan probably said something rude (and most likely crude) and Rick must have lost it and he socked Negan in the face and Negan just beat the holy shit out of him until Judith could use Rick as play dough. Negan would kill Michonne to officially end their reign and then rock back up at the Sanctuary with Judith on his hip. Judith would think the red stripes in her hair were dye and become Negan’s adopted punk rocker—or _Harley Quinn_ if Negan had his way and gave her a bat. 

_This was all his fault_. He should be there with them making sure his dad and Negan didn’t kill each other, not here waiting here like a docile, dependent wife, _trusting_ Negan to make it back without bloodshed, _trusting_ his father not to cause any trouble. Negan should just come back, right now. He should come back where Carl could monitor him and watch him and stop him. The whole point of this was to take an active role in keeping their shit together. He should’ve insisted on going with. He should’ve just fucked Negan and gone along to Alexandria and done his job, not leave it to _trust_ because of his pride and feelings like the weak omega he was trying not to be. Even worse, like a _kid_. 

If he was still letting his emotions control him even after promising himself to his commitments then why was he expecting his father to do any different? Negan was right. His father was probably planning some kind of attack all the while Carl was still planning on how and when to ask Negan to mark him. They were both full of shit. Why was Carl waiting anyway? He was wasting time, they needed to seal the deal, completely and irreversibly. Once they were mated Negan would _have_ to listen to him, he’d have to respect Rick’s presence, but all that was keeping him from tearing through Alexandria right now was a piece of paper with their names on it. How _stupid_ could Carl be?

 

The sun was dipping towards the west when Negan returned. Carl stared out of a window from upstairs and watched the trucks pull in. 

He couldn’t see Judith, or a bound and gagged Rick and Michonne, only the usual Saviours, and of course Negan. It was impossible to see his expression no matter how much Carl squinted through grimy the windows. It didn’t help that Carl’s sketchy vision was even worse than usual with vodka in his untrained system. 

Sticking his face against the window led to no answers but there was a little spark of hope at the lack of blood. Carl’s tongue was thick and heavy in his mouth as he rushed from the window, groaning as he veered away from the stairs at the last moment. He was already getting strange looks from the people on guard upstairs but he wasn’t too far into self-loathing to humiliate himself by making an appearance downstairs, so rushing Negan about what had happened would have to wait. 

He went back to their room, he didn’t need to see Sherry’s worried face or have an audience for what was to come—good or bad. He sat on one of the armrests of the couch, both legs bouncing as he tried to remain as calm as he could manage with hours’ worth of fretting. By now he had imagined every horrid scenario possible and he was all out of premature frets. What’s done was done and no amount of replaying scenes in his head could change it. 

And much the same, no amount of trying kept him from crying when Negan barged through the door, a deep scowl on his face.

In the moments that followed it felt like all the warmth and colour drained down from Carl’s head, down through his body and out of the soles of his feet. When he blinked fat tears rushed down his cheek, curling around his jaw until it dripped down his throat. He wanted to wipe the moisture away but he was frozen, eye glued on Negan’s twisted face.

When Negan returned his gaze he stopped dead, the bat over his shoulder. They stared at one another, unblinking and breathing out of rhythm, until Negan’s scowl deepened into a snarl.

“And the fuck’s wrong with _you_?” Negan barked, dropping the bat against the door after he slammed it shut.

Carl’s lip trembled against his will. He shook his head to hide it, standing as thought Negan was a rabid dog that might lash out and snap at him. But rather than it placating the alpha, Negan bared more of his teeth and snarled louder.

“What?!”

“N-nothing,” Carl stuttered, wiping his face as more tears rose and fell even as it was immediately obvious that it was making things worse—especially because it _shouldn’t_.

“Do I look like I want your tears? Huh?” Negan came over, his eyes blazing, “Do you think I like that?”

Carl shook his head, feeling small as Negan towered over him. He opened his mouth but Negan gave him no chance to reply.

“Answer me! Do you think that I like that, Carl? Huh? What do you— _stop fucking crying_! Am I hitting you? Huh?! Am I hurting you?! What the hell is wrong with you—stop moving away from me!”

Carl made a watery sound as Negan yanked him from the corner he found himself in, the hand like a massive vice that might pull someone’s shoulder out if there was an ounce more power behind it.

Shrinking from danger was a natural omegan response. Carl hadn’t realised he’d done so even as his body moved, primarily aiming to escape the man in front of him. He was the only other person in the room so he was the only person the alpha could be mad at. There was a distant recollection that the real Carl would have stood his ground, cowering would be the furthest thing of his mind but the scent of pissed off alpha overload everything else to a raw, basic level.

“You fucking stink.” Negan spat, pushing Carl back into his corner. “What are you wallowing in? Besides the entire fucking liquor cabinet!”

Negan looked like he expected an answer, but Carl’s throat was wound as tight as his hand had been. Why was he so mad? What happened? Bad, _bad, **bad**_ , Carl’s gut screamed unhelpfully. 

Negan stood a few steps away, definitely expecting an answer. The alcohol still had Carl lightly buzzed and between that and the worrying he didn’t think he could rope together a sentence let alone a proper one. He didn’t think Negan would listen anyway, so he did what his instincts told him to do and turned his face into the wall, baring his neck as a peace offering to calm his alpha.

It didn’t work. Negan swore, turning away. _Why wasn’t it working?_

“N-N—al—”

“Shut up,” Negan snapped, lifting a hand, “Just shut up.”

There was no escaping the sour scent in the room, and Carl realised with a start it was a concoction of their scents. Negan’s fury and Carl’s….he didn’t know what he felt right now. 

“Why?” he managed to ask, swallowing a mouthful of saliva, “Why—what—what did—?”

“You Grimes are going to be the death of me.” Negan said into no particular direction, rubbing his face.

Carl came out of the corner when he realised again what he was doing. He approached Negan, fighting off the instinct to respond to Negan’s growling in any manner that was omegan.

“…What happened?” 

Negan spoke slowly. “…If you don’t want to be here, _go_. I am not going to say it again. Do you understand, Carl?”

“What happened?” Carl repeated, firmer, even as a tremor went through his voice. There was no blood on Negan or his bat, and Carl tried to let that fact calm his instincts.

“When I have a shitty day the last thing I need is to come here and smell you like this. I’m serious, Carl. There is the fucking door.”

Carl opened his mouth but Negan shook his head to stop him, hand up again. 

“Just go. Go cry about your life upstairs. I want to relax.”

Carl wasn’t comfortable feeling the amount of rejection he felt at Negan’s dismissal. _This was his room_. But it wasn’t. _He should help his alpha_. His alpha didn’t want it. _He’d made his alpha angry_. Negan wasn’t his alpha, technically. And it was that exact fact that was causing this current problem. 

“…Is he dead?” 

Negan paced the small area between the bed and the chair, eventually choosing to sit on the edge of the chair seat, fingers interlocked.

“Negan.”

“Currently? No…”

“…But?”

Negan ground his jaw, twisting his fingers until it wasn’t enough and he scratched his face, rough and no doubt painfully. Carl had to resist the pull to stop him.

“Just go, Carl.” 

Judging by the banging on his knees with his fists Negan was pent up—a lot. Something _had_ happened, but if he didn’t kill Rick for whatever confrontation they had then he was probably still bursting at the seams with aggression. Carl had to note that that must have been strange for Negan. The man wasn’t used to holding in the need to maim someone.

They remained in a tight, heavy silence for a few minutes. Negan just sat fidgeting until he settled on rubbing his temples instead of hurting himself, and Carl stood as stiff as a plank a metre away, both of them wound tighter than ever before.

Negan smelt bad, a waft of sweat, aggression and fury. Carl caught his own scent in every breath thanks to the contrast of Negan’s, and yeah, he smelt bad too, covered in a sickly musk that he’d never smelt before. It just didn’t smell welcoming, neither of them did, but Negan’s scent sent Carl into submission, automatically trying to appease Negan’s wrath. It didn’t seem right that Negan’s response to Carl’s anxiety was to worsen it. 

But that was Carl’s fault too. Why should he expect Negan of all people to comfort him? That was not what this was, that was not who Negan was. He needed to stop referring to what _normal_ alphas and omegas did. They weren’t that. None of this was normal.

“…I just had a moment. Sorry.” Carl said, as impassively as he could. He ignored the glower Negan had on show for him, and walked up to him. “Now get over yours.”

“Oh, now you want to talk to me?”

“I never said I didn’t.”

“You don’t have to when you’re moping in here like I’m holding you hostage!”

Carl let Negan catch his breath, catching the scent of what he deduced was ‘indignity’. He still couldn’t smell any blood and that set his fears at ease, allowing him to lean closer even as Negan glared, because he was Carl fucking Grimes.

“If no one is dead could you just tell me what happened?”

“Jesus.” Negan scrubbed his face. “Nothing, okay?”

Carl rolled his eye as hard as he could, straining his arm as he focused all his might on not punching Negan, even though he was pretty sure Negan would take it better than he had Carl’s tears. He sighed heavily, irritably, and then pushed Negan to sit back so he could sit on his knee.

Negan shoved him right off onto the floor.

“What the hell?!” Carl yelled after hitting the floor, fighting back up to lean on his elbows, “What is your problem?”

“Your people are my fucking problem! Did I _make_ you do this?”

“No, you didn’t. They know that. Why—”

“ _Apparently_ it _doesn’t_ matter because _apparently_ you’re still jailbait.”

Carl closed his mouth as the issue dawned on him.

“I cannot begin to express how pissed off I am. And I didn’t even kill anyone. And I did that for _you_ , Carl. So I think I’m allowed to ‘ _have a moment_ ’.”

Carl sat up, expression twitching into something a little more sympathetic, along with a new flush of pink over his face.

“I can handle being accused and called many things, but not _that_.”

 _That_ put a sour look on their faces to accompany their scents. Negan looked away after that, sighing.

Carl looked away too, giving Negan a semblance of privacy as he sat humiliated. 

“…They shouldn’t’ve said that.” He mumbled, getting back on his feet. Negan didn’t respond, just looking off, uncharacteristically troubled. “It’s not true anyway. Pretty sure I’m legal. I’m just…scrawny.”

Negan huffed out a humourless laugh, still not replying.

“Who said it?” Carl asked. Negan kept ignoring him, chipping at Carl’s patience. “Negan, I also can’t control everything my people say. They know this is my idea, everyone does. They’re just—and earlier I—I wasn’t upset with you or anything. I was just worried, okay? I mean, can you blame me, after everything you’ve done? I was scared you were gonna come back with my dad dead in your truck and then you rock up in a mood. How was I supposed to know? I spent the whole day imagining you killing my dad because I wasn’t brave enough to come with you. I knew something was going to happen but I stayed. So this is my fault. I should’ve been there. With you. …Look at me. Negan, _look at me_.”

Negan did so with the greatest reluctance.

“I’m _not_ a child. Everybody knows that. _You_ know that.”

“Yeah. But it’s not like they’re pulling this outta their asses. You are still a kid.”

“But I’m not a _child_. I was. But not anymore. Not for a long time. Long before you came around, Negan. I’m practically a man now.”

Negan studied him closely, brows still furrowed as his eyes showed fatigue of the day. Carl came closer so their knees were almost touching and Negan sat back into the couch.

“And the crying?” Negan asked.

Carl shrugged and shook his head. “I wasn’t upset because I wanted to go back. I just…I let my imagination get the better of me. I had a drink, or two,” he added when Negan cocked a brow, “and that was all I could think about. If anything happened it would be because of me.”

“How? You were here where I wanted you to be.”

“Yeah, exactly, and look what happened. You could’ve done exactly what I was scared of all because I wasn’t man enough to let you fuck me.”

“Then I have to assume you don’t think I can keep my word.”

“It’s not that.”

Negan stood up so fast that Carl had to stumble back.

“Then you think I’m a monster.”

“No,” Carl growled, trying to stand his ground as his instincts gnawed at him again. “No more than you’ve proven yourself to be. But I accept that. That’s why I’m here. As much as I’d hated you for it, I’d hate myself too because if I’m not playing my part then why should you? It’d be my fault.”

Finally a sense of understanding settled over Negan’s lined face. He still looked ticked off, but a lot less murderous. 

“…Well, good thing it didn’t come to that.”

“I’m sorry. They’re just…”

“Overprotective of you, and they hate me. I get it. Still pissed me off.”

Carl tried to smile, feeling guilty from all angles and stupid for not listening to his gut in the first place.

“Also I don’t think you get how scary it is coming from that back here to find your little badass playmate looking like he would rather die than be here. For a second I believed them.”

“Just bad timing. And _you_ don’t get how scary it is to show your neck to a guy like you when you think everyone you love is dead. I still tried, and you just yelled me.”

Negan smiled for the first time, and lifted his hand to cup Carl’s neck. “I’m sorry, baby. I thought you were scared of me. Submission out of fear in the bedroom doesn’t get me going.”

“I was just trying to be the part. I don’t think I’m getting it…”

Negan ran his hands down Carl’s arms and urged them closer.

“Oh, I think you are. You should see yourself when you’re presenting. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in a long, long time.”

Carl turned his head a little to hide the blush with his hair, but he couldn’t resist looking at Negan and soaking up his familiar demeanour.

“I’m trying…” 

“I know. So keep trying. I can wait. I’m a man of my word.”

Carl closed his eyes as Negan drew him in for a hug. He gave over his weight, physical and mental and most definitely emotional, and let the promise sooth his frayed instincts. His alpha was calm. Carl had calmed him. And his alpha proved trustworthy. His alpha hadn’t hurt his family. His alpha wasn’t mad at him. His alpha had apologised.

‘His’ alpha.

“What were you drinking?” Negan asked as they pulled apart.

“Vodka, mostly. It was disgusting.”

“Check tomorrow if there’s hair on your chest.”

“You’ll have to check Amber too then.”

Negan’s smile dropped a little, a slight pinch taking its place. Carl only clicked afterwards, shutting his mouth like a fish and averting his eyes from Negan and the topic. 

“Don’t make a habit of it.” Negan said, giving Carl’s hair a ruffle. Carl exhaled in relief and nodded, noting that the current scents in the air were much lighter. They both needed a shower though, and to open a window.

“All right, I’m gonna take a nap.” Negan clapped Carl’s shoulder and walked around him to throw himself on the bed.

Carl hummed at the idea. It didn’t sound half bad. Now with the adrenaline dissolving he felt like he’d been hit by a train.

“Me too.” He said, edging forward slowly until Negan patted his side of the bed as permission. He jumped on too, flopping onto his back and glancing at Negan from the corner of his eye as they bounced in the aftershocks.

They lay silently for a while, fully clothed and on top of the blankets in the waning light of the afternoon. The atmosphere was calm again, the usual kind as far as Negan was concerned, and Carl tried to absorb as much of it as possible. If only he could always feel this light, or at least half of it, he might smile more like Negan wants. Life would never be peaceful with the world as it was and Carl had no intention of pretending otherwise, but there was also no pretending that he didn’t need a break from it once in a while. And it felt good, it felt _real_ good—something Negan was ironically good at doing.

Frustratingly Negan kept to himself the whole time. It wasn’t like him but with the hit his ego had taken it wasn’t a surprise. Carl almost felt bad for him and he wondered who had said insulted Negan. It wasn’t his father, Negan would’ve made that clear as soon as he walked in. It wasn’t likely to be Michonne either, and for now that was all Carl cared to care about. He believed that Negan hadn’t killed anyone, and for Negan, after being insulted like that, it was more than Carl asked for. 

Both sides were supposed to play nice for this to work but if one didn’t comply then retaliation within reason was allowed. Now Negan had the upper hand, _again_. Next time Negan wouldn’t hold back. He shouldn’t have to make that choice and no one should dare to chance it. Whoever had done that had set them back and Carl hoped his father dealt with them because this could not happen again. 

“…” Carl tried to glance at Negan without moving his head. It strained the only eye he had left without providing much to go on. Negan could be asleep if it wasn’t for the fidgeting of his fingers. At least it was something, so Carl kept peeking until Negan parted his lips.

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.” Carl said quickly.

Negan hummed and started kicking off his boots. They tumbled over the bottom of the bed and clonked onto the floor, and a small part of Carl wanted to scold him. _It makes a man lazy_ , his mom had said to him every time he did it after school. It hadn’t helped, he’d carried on, but he saw where she was coming from now, and if that didn’t set him apart from childhood he didn’t know what did.

“…Thank you for not taking off on anyone.” Carl kept looking until Negan opened his eyes and looked at him. “ _Thank you_.” He said with feeling, making sure Negan knew he was being completely sincere and appreciative. Maybe some part of Negan would remember that the next time something like this happened again. Maybe the next time Negan wouldn’t need reminding, maybe it would be instinct.

“Ah huh.”

Well, that was heartfelt. Carl pursed his lips, but he couldn’t be angry anymore today. He was just too fucking relieved. He never wanted to feel anything else.

Negan looked as surprised as Carl felt when he rolled over and straddled Negan’s waist. 

“…What’s this now?”

Carl shifted until he was comfortable, balancing his hands on Negan’s stomach. Negan hooked his hands behind Carl’s knees and squeezed, tugging him a little closer.

“Let’s do it.”

Negan closed his eyes in an exaggerated fashion. Carl tugged on his shirt.

“Let’s mate.” Carl said before Negan could go on about _being specific_. “And bond. I’m ready.”

Negan snorted. “Sure. While you’re drunk. Great idea.”

“I’m not drunk. I was. And I am ready.”

“You’re a crucible of things but I don’t think ‘ready’ is in there.”

“What? I’m not even on a false heat—.”

“Carl—”

Carl leaned over and silenced Negan with a kiss. Negan broke away immediately, but Carl spoke first, breathing against his lips.

“Negan…I’m here and there’s no use waiting. I wanna do this.” He pressed his crotch down into Negan’s, biting his lip at the sound Negan made.

“Fuck…” Negan looked torn, breathing steadily through his teeth. Carl’s back tightened as he watched, focusing on the sharper points of Negan’s canines that were made for tearing food, and marking a mate.

The thought of Negan biting into his shoulder sent a deep, dark shudder spiralling through Carl’s body. Negan would know just how to do it without making an ugly scar, he would know exactly how to sooth it with his tongue and how to hold Carl close while doing it so Carl felt reassured and not threatened. It was the most bizarre thing to _want_ a bite now when for most of his life a bite was one of the things he had had to avoid at all costs, even a bite from a living person. Any wound could get infected but Negan had a doctor and medicine and he has proven himself as an alpha that looked after his partners, not to mention he had almost plentiful resources, land, and authority, probably more than anyone else in the area. It sounded almost silly that they weren’t bonded yet, what more was there to find?

“Do it,” Carl breathed, pulling his hair from the left shoulder as he tilted his head, “Do it. Bite me.”

Negan grunted, shifting like he wanted to get up and do exactly that.

“Do it. Just do it.”

“ _I want to_ ,” Negan growled, squeezing Carl’s thighs to the point that they might bruise. Carl put his hands on either side of Negan’s head and leaned over to give Negan his neck, flicking his hair to the other side as he pressed down low against Negan’s body.

“Do it.” He could feel Negan’s erection pressing hard against his own, his every muscle taunt and coiled as he fought—why, Carl wasn’t sure—against both their desires and needs. 

“Gotta be when I knot you…” Negan bit out with noticeable difficulty, rubbing shamelessly up against Carl with a lack of control he rarely, if ever, exhibited. He started to breathe hard, blink rapidly and swallow constantly as he got sucked into the idea. His nostrils flared just as Carl noticed the sweeter scent rolling off of himself, a scent that said more than their words.

“Just do it… Doesn’t matter…” 

“It’ll hurt.” Negan said before he finally sat up, hooking an arm around Carl to keep them together as he switched their positions. 

_It’ll hurt anyway_ , Carl wanted to say, but then Negan was on top of him and he found he didn’t care.

“I know you’re a champ when it comes to pain but sex is a natural painkiller, didja know that? That’s why marking and knotting is supposed to happen when the bitch is cumming…”

All Carl could manage was a half-hearted curl of his lip. The rest of his reaction was a jumble of steeping arousal and want as Negan flattened over him. 

“First time ought to be traditional anyway, don’t you think?”

Carl made a pathetic, needy sound as Negan rolled sensually between his legs, teasing Carl with a kiss he never gave. 

“Ask one more time.” Negan said, nipping into Carl’s neck.

Carl wrapped his arms around Negan’s shoulders and squeezed, turning his neck until it creaked. “Mark me.”

“And…?” Negan brushed his lips over Carl’s pulse, his breath hot and wet and _fuck_ , Carl needed it.

“Fuckenknotme.” He blurted in one gasping breath as everything inside him clenched to the point of a familiar pain. He could feel Negan grinning into his neck as he bit and nipped and took deep breaths through his nose against his skin.

“Damn, there’s the good stuff again…” 

Every time Carl squirmed it became more than obvious he was soaking wet, and he couldn’t blame it on the false heat. It was purely Negan to blame, this time he had pulled it out of Carl before it could turn Carl into the _bitch_ Negan loved so much. At least it would be sated now, finally, and maybe stop altogether like the doctor said.

“C’mon,” Carl grumbled, pushing Negan from his neck.

“God, this is gonna be awesome.” Negan said, grinning like the psycho he was as he pushed up on his knees and started to pull off his jacket and shirt.

“Shut up.” Carl watched, trying to catch his breath, and started lifting his own shirt from his waist.

“Wait, keep it on,” Negan pulled it back down, and instead tore open the right shoulder seam.

“The hell?” Carl shouted. He tried to assess the damage but it was impossible with his missing eye.

“Relax, I’ll get you a new shirt.”

“Just take it off,” 

“Nah, it’ll be sexier like this.”

Carl grumbled but allowed it, flushing as Negan pushed the fabric open to expose the meat of Carl’s shoulder and caress it with nauseating fondness.

“…Why that side?” He couldn’t help asking, feeling just a bit self-conscious as he kept his head turned for Negan, baring his scarred eye along with his neck.

“Just. I like it.” 

Carl mashed his lips together, holding his tongue as Negan pushed his hair back too so Carl felt as naked as he could with his clothes still on. Negan looked at him like he was ready to devour him, even with the ugly scar across his face. But knowing Negan was going to add his own one to that side made Carl feel just a bit less self-conscious than before.

“Up.” Negan said as he undid Carl’s jeans. Carl lifted and wriggled so Negan could pull them off and throw them somewhere over his shoulder. He had a more aggressive approach to Carl’s boxers, tearing them right down the middle and pulling them off his body like it was paper.

“Much better.” Negan chortled, taking in his visual fill with a slow lick to his lip.

“So stupid…” Carl grumbled, pulling his shirt down to cover himself, pretending he couldn’t feel his aching hard on. “What about you?”

Negan grinned and undid his own jeans with an exaggerated smugness, pealing open the zip and fishing out his cock like he was presenting a gift.

“Let’s tie the knot.”

“Seriously?” Carl frowned over the reddening of his face and made a point to keep his eye on Negan’s face after the first glimpse of his cock. Negan started to stroke himself, shifting closer so Carl had to rest his thighs against Negan’s.

“You sure about this, Carl?”

“Yes to infinity, okay?”

Negan stared him down as if trying to find a fault in his face.

When Carl passed the test Negan smiled, and patted Carl’s hip.

“Jerk off. Let’s get you wet.”

“I already am…” Carl complained under his breath, sounding bratty even to his own ears. Negan pulled the fabric from his hands and bunched it high on his chest so he could grab his cock himself. He gave it a hard stroke in time to his other hand, smirking as both their hips jerked towards one another.

Carl whined and pushed Negan’s hand away with a half-hearted effort while lifting his hips for more.

“Rub for me, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna screw you till you beg me to stop…” Negan leaned over with a growl, forcing a fierce shiver through Carl as he went back to caging him against the bed, only this time he dipped his head and licked hard over Carl’s chest.

“Shit!” Carl shouted, whining as he shoved a knuckle between his teeth. His body flared white hot as Negan licked over his pebbled nipples. His tongue was hot and rough and sending sparks straight through Carl’s body like he’d been injected with raw lightening. 

“Yeah, baby,” Negan growled, thrusting forward between Carl’s legs. His cock brushed over Carl’s hands and his own cock, all of it sandwiched between their bodies as Negan lapped at Carl’s flat chest. Too flat, Carl thought for a second, wondering for the first time what it would be like to have tits, and to have them fondled.

“That’s it,” Negan crooned as Carl started to stroke himself. “Beat that dick.”

“Negan…” Carl closed his eye as pleasure and shame washed over him, his breath running faster than he could catch it. The hot desire pooling in his gut began to spill, dampening him with sweat and a fresh ooze of slick. He was slowly losing control of his body as his hips lifts towards Negan’s thrusting, his hands stuttering and shaking as he jerked himself with both hands, wriggling his fingers to rub against Negan’s cock too. 

Negan’s cock was that of a typical alpha, and even though Carl had already seen it, it looked different now that he knew it was going inside him. Long and thick and with a bulbous red head that rivalled his knot, it was both frightening and delectable. Carl’s hands moved before conscious thought, and traded his cock for Negan’s.

“Shit. Shit, _shit_.” Negan rasped, his hips bucking. He leaned his weight to one hand, licked a wad of spit onto the fingers of his other hand, and reached deep between their bodies and Carl’s legs. He found Carl’s centre with no trouble, and rubbed his fingers hard over Carl’s fluttering hole.

Carl gasped a little as his entire being surged nearly out of his skin. Days of play mating did nothing to prepare him for the feeling of skin on skin, it was completely different, and entirely addicting. He lifted his hips even higher to meet Negan’s calloused fingers, tugging harshly on Negan’s cock to even the pleasure inside him.

“Ooh, look at you, baby doll. _Fuck_ , feel that? See how wet your pussy is for me? You want my cock? Huh? You need it?”

Carl nodded heartily to everything Negan said, lifting and spreading his thighs a little more every time he could focus beyond the feeling of Negan’s dick in his hands and the fingers pressing into his hole.

A throaty sound escaped him as two thick fingers slid into him, stretching his rim buts sinking easily into the wet heat. Negan swore against his chest, a colourful litany that Carl couldn’t catch over his own sounds, while the fingers sank in to the knuckles like pieces of a puzzle. There was the smallest ache as Negan curled his fingers, but it was overshadowed by the thundering satisfaction Carl felt by being filled, especially when Negan’s fingers pressed into that sensitive spot inside him.

 _Ohshitohgod_ , Carl wheezed silently as his hips bucked. He clenched around Negan’s fingers, starting off with a low moan that ruptured into a shout as Negan started sucking on one of his nipples as he began to drive his fingers in and out.

There could have been plump breasts on Carl’s chest the way Negan acted, suckling and nipping until Carl’s chest was pink and throbbing and covered in warm saliva.

“Nice?” Negan asked, as cocky as ever. Carl would’ve given him a dirty look if the whole thing wasn’t so _cocky_ and _dirty_ already. So he just nodded, trying to control his breathing as his body jerked and shuddered under Negan’s attentions.

Is this how it was for the wives every time they went off with Negan? He’d never, _ever_ heard them breathe even one complaint about their sex life with their shared husband. Negan probably worshipped them like goddesses, and although Carl lacked the curves he was starting to feel like one.

“Christ…” Negan breathed against Carl’s chest, stopping everything as his entire body tensed. Carl could _feel_ the thickening of his knot as it happened between his fingers but it didn’t pop, and Negan pulled up and off with a grunt.

“Damn! Carl, goddamn.”

“Ugh,” was all Carl could respond with, lifting his burning, damp hands to fist around his hair. His hips dropped as Negan pulled his fingers, his knees swinging open like dead weight.

“ _Damn_.” Negan held the base of his cock, squeezing tight. His hands looked even bigger as they barely wrapped around his cock, heavy hairy set balls against his thighs.

Carl took his visual fill in a strange sort of trance, neither ashamed nor proud as he studied the man he was bound to, and soon to be bonded to. They were so different, _almost_ as different as a man was to a woman. He was lean and lanky and damn near too hairless where Negan was solid, tall and dusted in greying brown hair that was decently groomed and made Carl curious as to how hairy he could get if he didn’t keep it under control. Carl had enough hair to prove he had long achieved manhood, but it was a field next to Negan’s forest.

“You all right?” Negan asked, sitting back on his calves. He was breathing hard too, his eyes small and dark as they always were when they got into it. 

“Think so.” Carl nodded, swallowed awkwardly with his mouth suddenly dry.

“Mmmh. If only I had a damn camera now.”

Carl managed to feel shy, but it was overshadowed by the torrent of other feelings fighting for control. Of course only one won in the end, and it was his need to breed.

“Fuckin’ hurry up.” He said, shifting to lure Negan back between his thighs. The urge to turn over and present was incredibly strong, a tight pull in his belly as his body couldn’t understand why all of a sudden he wasn’t succumbing. He knew Negan liked it this way better, but in all honesty, and only to himself, he had to admit he wanted it this way too. 

“Bossy, bossy,” Negan grinned, chortling and biting down on his lip as Carl’s movements worked, drawing Negan’s attention back to his body. “…Not kidding, Carl. S’been a while for me. Can’t say it’s not gonna hurt, but I’ll try be gentle.”

“Oh my God. Can you just—? I don’t care. It’s not like I’m giving birth, you’re not that big. God…”

Negan looked both amused and offended, but he obeyed with only a small affectionate mumble of what sounded like _bossy bitch_ under his breath, and scooted back between Carl’s thighs, this time lifting and spreading them open wide the way would a book right down the middle. He took up every inch of space, the front of his still clothed thighs pressed against the back of Carl’s, and his cock hanging heavy over Carl’s.

Carl substituted his hair for the headboard, resting his head to the right until Negan noticed and untangled him. He put Carl’s hands around his chest.

“You hold onto _me_. As for this,” Negan turned Carl by the jaw and brushed his hair away to clear his right shoulder, “gotta keep this ready. Not gonna lie, I might cum real quick. And if you tease me, I’ll make sure you _don’t_ cum. Deal?”

“If you hurry up I won’t fall asleep, _deal_?”

“Goddammit, Carl.”

Carl smirked as Negan looked away in defeat, finally coming back to the reality of the situation as Negan’s body weighed down on him. He got his hands in a comfortable position around Negan’s chest as casually as he could without letting the distant gnaw of nerves get to him. His heart still skipped a beat though when Negan reached between them again and aimed himself.

“Let’s see if I can shut you up.”

There was more tease than threat in those words, but Carl didn’t care either way. There was a blunt pressure, an ooze of slick around it, and Carl felt every inhibition drive out as Negan drove in—as his _alpha_ drove in.

A little sound made its way out of Carl’s mouth as his entire body went slack, a complete contrast to their hours of playmating. Everything had been so tense and intense, muscles clenching from core to tips, but the second they were physically joined everything in Carl’s being almost fell apart. 

Another sound followed the first, and then another and another until the omega in Carl had taken over, just as the alpha in Negan clawed its way out with a flurry of snarls and stilted thrusts. It would’ve been embarrassing for Carl if he was in the right mind but Negan’s sounds were louder and wilder and almost frightening to the point that it made Carl boneless in a way he’d hadn’t the luxury of being before. 

Fear as Carl knew it had no place inside of him as everything that was Negan filled it, and he only wanted more. He was more than ready for it by now, his hole leaking and malleable to the point that pain joined fear, proving once and for all that Carl was fucked up beyond belief.

He took Negan to the hilt as though he had many times before, his breath stuttering in time to Negan’s hips as the man tried to take his time, but to no avail. Carl couldn’t agree more, spreading his knees wider to take whatever Negan was giving him. 

There was pressure and spark and a deep sense of completion the deeper Negan sank. His cock was thick and heavy like an alpha’s should be, a never ending monster that took every bit of space Carl had left. Every time Carl thought it was over there was just that bit more until the swell of the knot popped through Carl’s rim and Negan’s balls pressed against his cheeks.

When they connected completely Negan’s body surged with an aborted grunt, bumping hard into Carl one last time before he went still and huffed into his neck.

Carl blinked rapidly at the dirty ceiling, tears spilling over his cheek as every worry, every ache, and every trouble became inconsequential for the moment. It was like with everything Negan gave him he also took away, wrapping his hands underneath Carl, winding a hand in his hair and pressing every possible inch of their skin together.

“Carl…” Negan breathed, hooking his other hand around one of Carl’s butt cheeks, effectively holding Carl in place with not an inch of wriggle room. It was the most constricting position Carl had ever been in, all he could do was breathe (with difficulty) and curl his fingers and toes and do what he was made to do; take his alpha’s knot.

“Fucking Christ.” Negan swore, his voice dripping vulgarity like never before as he started gnawing at Carl’s neck, holding him tighter until Carl whined and dug his nails into Negan’s back.

“ _Carl_ …” It was like a prayer, a song of reverence that had no place in their broken world, and for the moment Carl felt broke, utterly wrecked, but Negan was there to hold him together like he was the most valuable thing in the world. It felt good, far beyond the physical. _Too_ good. _Too fucking good_.

“Don’t stop…” Carl whispered, securing his arms and legs around Negan. “Don’t—ahh…”

“Won’t,” Negan grunted between bites that morphed into kisses that led over into a big wet kiss on the lips. 

Carl parted his lips like Negan had pressed the _open_ button, moaning his heart out as Negan filled him end to end, balls to throat in the filthiest, most obscene thing Carl could ever in his life imagine. The very few pornographic magazines from back in the day that Carl had stumbled upon during scavenging did not do this justice _at all_.

Books and advice and tips were the furthest things in Carl’s mind as Negan pulled back and snapped his hips forward, punching pleasure straight through Carl. Carl couldn’t remember what he was supposed to do or what Sherry had said or _anything_ anyone had ever said about this, and it didn’t seem to matter. Instinct was in charge, and all it wanted from him was to be still and receptive, another contrast to their playmating where Negan had let Carl hold his own and Carl had done exactly that. But this wasn’t even Negan’s doing, it was all Carl and the dreaded, all-powerful Mother Nature. He wanted nothing more than to hold on and take it all, and the alpha on top of him seemed more than fine with that and more than able as Negan made good on his many lewd promises with a building tempo.

They sounded like animals, grunts and growls and mewls seasoning the heavy breathing and sharp slapping of skin. It sounded like a fight and it started to feel like one as Negan closed his fists tighter, arching Carl’s head and squeezing bruises into his ass, growling obscenities into his ear as if he was truly going to eat him up. 

Carl was so wet he took every thrust of Negan’s with an ease akin to holding a gun, lubrication flicking and splatting between their bodies as Negan thrust against him, into him and over him, pulling cry after cry from Carl in the best way there was. Every pump was long and deep from head to the swelling knot which occasionally punched through Carl’s red, plumping rim, eliciting a torrent of sounds and slick from Carl that had nothing to do with the Carl they both knew, that anyone knew. This was a raw, needy animal that Carl never wanted his family to see, but he never felt more at home in his life even as he started to keen like he was dying.

Negan shushed him sweetly although he could barely hear it over his own voice. But Negan was loud enough, always enough, holding Carl still as he wriggled and writhed but letting him feel every sensation that passed between them. It was nothing but _feeling_ , physical and emotional. Everything made sense in the way that it no longer had to.

“Tell me you’re close.” Negan said suddenly, his voice breaking along with his fluid thrusts. “God, you gotta be, kid…”

Carl nodded, hearing and _feeling_ the desperation and wanting to sooth it, but all he could do was let Negan know he felt the same. He hadn’t even realised he was on the cusp of cumming until Negan said that, hitting that good spot inside him since the start. He was hanging onto Negan like a moth to flame, his body worked up into a tight clench around Negan’s throbbing cock. 

“So good. Fuck, so fucking good…” Negan breathed into Carl’s neck, occasionally letting out his own mewls that had nothing to do with pain. He thrust harder, the cords in his back bunched beneath Carl’s hands as he bucked forward, straining the capabilities of Carl’s small hips with a harsh _slap, slap, slap_ that had Carl’s teeth chattering towards the first semblance of pain he’d felt since he’d almost convinced himself the worst had happened. But that was over, and it would stay over now as Negan’s knot started expanding, catching on every thrust with a wet pop.

It was time. Carl turned his head into the pillow and bared his two vulnerabilities, the two things he would’ve seen as weaknesses if Negan hadn’t worshipped them as he had. 

Negan fucked harder and Carl knew he was looking at him even with his eye closed, and it made him feel as powerful as Negan must feel. He could _sense_ the lust, the want and the raw need of the alpha screwing him like a beast, oozing a powerful tonic that made him pliable once more, his dripping hole taking the entirety of Negan’s cock and his knot to the base in a way that shouldn’t be possible. Negan had carved a path into his stomach just below his heart, and Carl would never be the same again.

When he came it was explosive and it tore a shout from him that bought up a distant, ridiculous memory of imagining what fireworks felt like when they lit up the sky. His head turned back into the pillow as he arched right up against Negan, forcing the stream of his cum up between their chests where it splattered and soaked into the fabric of his shirt, rising up like the sea on a beach with each wave of Negan’s thrusts until it dribbled around Carl’s neck like an ivory chain. Whether it was that or the wrecked sounds Carl was making Negan finally lost it and snapped his jaws around Carl’s trapezius muscle, releasing from Carl a second, violent orgasm that took Carl’s vision and his voice leaving him with a swirling blackness and a cry only an omega could make.

Carl felt when Negan broke through his skin but he was numb on incomprehensible primeval euphoria, feeling only a fierce throb of pressure that seemed to shoot straight through his body to where they were joined, quickly becoming inseparable as Negan’s knot popped completely and he came too. He shouted into Carl’s shoulder, biting his mark into a wide bruising mound as he emptied himself deep, thrusting and grinding in some primal last ditch effort to have Carl plugged up as best as humanly possible. 

He finally removed his hands from Carl only to tear at the sheets as something erupted out of him like a shark to the scent of blood. Carl knew to stay still, shaking and moaning as inconspicuously as he could as his alpha took out whatever energy he had left in him out on the bedding while keeping Carl covered and protected as he lay bleeding and locked on his back without the strength to lift even a finger to defend himself should the need arise.

His good eye fluttered along to the beat of his heart as he felt Negan pulse inside him, filling him with his very life force in a way none of the wives could draw a claim to. It felt important so Carl pushed his shoulder against Negan’s bite even as it flared with a distant pain, desperately wanting it to stick, wanting it _all_ to stick and mark him irrevocably, inside and out just as the world had.

Everything else was a blur from there until Negan was still and Carl was limp again. It took them a good few minutes to catch their breath. In that time Negan had already sucked and licked Carl’s shoulder clean until the wound had stopped bleeding and the pain started setting in. It stayed in the background as Carl floated on the high of the sex, his arms and legs falling against Negan who was still propped up on his shaking arms, a solid, immovable mass that Carl wanted to mould into.

He tried to keep his eye open but he was worn to the bone as the high worn down, rendering him slacker than ever before. _A side effect after knotting_ , a voice said in his head, so he didn’t hurt himself trying to escape. He’d read that in a book, and he couldn’t imagine why he’d be trying to escape in the first place.

If the fuzziness inside him was contagious it must’ve been what made Negan start peppering kisses all over his face, leading back to Carl’s tender claiming mark. He kissed it gently, nuzzling against Carl’s cheek and holding so incredibly still, which was even more incredible when Carl noticed Negan was holding all of his upper body weight off of him the whole time. Carl chanced it, lifting his own shaking hands to run them down Negan’s arms, shivering at the strength coiled right beneath his fingertips; that horrid, cruel strength that had torn their lives apart.

Negan kisses away his tears as they fell, murmuring sweet nothings that Carl couldn’t comprehend no matter how hard he tried. All he could properly focus on was the pleased aura of his alpha and the thick, intimidating knot stuck inside him. 

What could’ve been seconds or hours later Negan spoke, his voice rough and thick with sex, sprinkled with just enough humour to filter through Carl’s daze for him to catch onto.

“Carl.”

Carl tried to say something back, but all his body allowed was a small, pathetic mewl. He was too red already to blush even now as the time ticked on, and Carl squirmed a little in revolt as an echo of the real Carl stirred inside the sated, fucked out omega possessing him.

“Whoa. Be careful.” Negan said, looking between them. Carl wished he had the energy to look too, but the pull in his gut and dazed look on Negan’s face said it all.

“Fuck.”

Carl hummed, swallowing thickly as he clenched, gouging how stretched he was but it was hard when everything was inside him feeling like one big pole.

Negan pushed up on his arms, groaning as his joints popped, but he got his balance and put his weight back on his knees, leaning over Carl to keep their lower bodies flush together. He did hook his hands beneath Carl’s knees and lift them a little, spreading them until Carl whined so he could take a good, long, lecherous look.

“Lord Almighty. I wish you could see this... Creamiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

Carl arched against his will as the words drove through him, mewling loud as he shifted on the knot. Negan groaned and followed with his hips, biting his lip hard as his expressed twitched, angry and feral. Carl didn’t know why. Negan had already devoured him; there was nothing left to take.

“I don’t regret this. _Holy shit_. Carl…”

Carl closed his eye when it became apparent he wasn’t yet able to speak. But he felt as Negan did, nodding minutely as the burn of the stretch started to make itself known in his battered gut. He was going to feel this for days.

Negan put his legs down and cupped his face, giving Carl a heated kiss before Carl could even open his eye. He kissed back lazily, eventually just leaving his swollen, red lips parted for Negan to enjoy until he was happy.

“I…” Negan started, cutting off with an aborted snort. Carl could feel the clench of his jaw against his cheek as Negan nuzzled again, burning his face with his beard as he unnecessarily scented him.

“Shit, Carl… You’re going to be the one to kill me.”

If only he knew how many times Carl had thought about that.

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and love. It really inspires a writer~


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, on the off chance of my readers from Matters of the Hart are here to peek and see WTF is happening, I am working on Matter of the Hart! PROMISE. So don't kill me.

Carl woke up faster than usual. He felt like one big bruise, a little light headed and tired in a whole new way even after sleeping for who knows how long. The other side of the bed was as empty as he was, void of his alpha. His _mate_. Not just ‘husband’ on paper, but a real mate. 

He was bonded to Negan, and he didn’t even know his last name. His _real_ name.

Carl shook his head of the unnecessary thoughts. That hardly mattered. What mattered was that it was finally done, he’d held up his part of the deal just as Negan had. He’d done it. They’d done it. _He’d done it_.

Painfully too. Carl winced as he shifted towards the side of the bed, poking warily at his shoulder when he tried but failed to see it with his good eye. He didn’t even dare feel what was going on _down there_ , every movement felt like it was around a massive ball still stuck inside him. 

By the time he had his legs over the side, still tangled in the blankets, he already wanted to go right back to sleep. He might have if given the chance, but the door swung open and Carl scrambled to cover himself, pulling in all the wrong places so that he toppled over the side and onto the floor.

The door shut and Negan’s heavy boots came clomping around the corner of the bed.

“Whoa. You all right? I got food.”

Carl poked his head up at the sound of Negan’s voice, and especially the promise of food. 

Negan chuckled when he decided Carl was all right, shifting a food tray from one hand to the other.

“Did I scare you, kitten?”

“No.” Carl deadpanned, clearing his throat when he heard it thick with sleep and _other things_.

“C’mon.” Negan held a hand out.

Carl took it and Negan hauled him up. Carl sat slowly back on the bed, holding the blankets against his belly. Negan sat next to him and offered a plate to him. Carl took a sandwich despite a lack of appetite. He looked at it, trying his best not to feel along his shoulder as it throbbed dully. He didn’t have to struggle too long, Negan did it for him.

“How’s it feel?” Negan asked, gently brushing his fingertips over the bruised flesh. “I got you some painkillers.”

Carl flinched a little and he couldn’t resist feeling after Negan. His skin was swollen and sporting the indents of Negan’s teeth which were scabbing over. It didn’t feel as deep as he thought it might be, but it did ache with every movement. He would be on the bench for the while until it healed.

“I’ll get the doc in with something to put on there. Last thing we want is an infection.”

“That’d be romantic.” Carl joked, taking a bite of the sandwich.

Negan leaned in, eyes searching. “How do you feel?”

Carl flushed hot as every inch of his body seemed to burn up, reminding him distinctly of each and every place Negan had ravished. He kept his eye down and focused on chewing, hiding his pink face behind his hair.

“Good? Or…Bad?”

Carl shook his head. “I’m good.”

Negan scratched his beard. “You’re quiet.”

Carl peeked up against his better judgement, but all it did was lock him in a gaze with the man who had screwed him senseless. He went red and shrugged, wincing at the tinge in his shoulder and going twice as red.

Negan chuckled and brushed Carl’s hair back to see. “Looks like I shut you up after all.”

“Shut up.” Carl pushed his hands away, biting his lip to fend of the pout. He hooked his hair behind his ears himself and finished the sandwich, using his left arm so he didn’t have to move his right. One more injury to that side and he’ll lose his balance.

“You were great.” Negan said, full of smiles and nudges. “…Was I great?”

Carl sighed, making sure it was full of grouch and grumble, rolling his eye. 

Negan put a silly, sincere hand to his chest. “Hey now. I need to know. I can tell with the girls but it’s a little different with you. It’s not every day I make love to a guy.”

Carl closed his eye because he couldn’t roll it any harder, shoving his mouth full of the last of the sandwich.

Negan groaned dramatically. “Fine. I’ll assume I’m fantastic until proven otherwise.”

“Great.”

Negan patted Carl’s knee. “C’mon, finish and put something on.”

Carl looked up as Negan got up. “Why?”

“You gotta shower. We’ll do it together.”

Carl raised both of his brows as high as he could, but Negan wasn’t joking. 

He got Carl fussing and struggling into a loose outfit and down to the showers where he promptly kicked everyone out. Too soon after last night Carl saw too many dicks and butts and a particularly amused look from Arat when she walked past them, glistening wet and casually drying her ample chest. Carl looked away from her and her rock hard nipples, eyes on Negan’s back until they were alone and Negan had locked the door. It was a communal shower with a few private stalls that Carl preferred the few times he rushed in to shower, but Negan dragged him right out in the open floor this time and stripped him down himself, much like the rest of the moment.

With little energy and even less reason to contest Carl followed Negan’s soft prompts and stood with his hands on the shower wall, parting his feet and letting his head hang as Negan striped too, taking his time and no doubt taking his fill of what he saw, but there was no shame left in Carl. Negan had devoured it all and replaced it with a lazy acceptance. 

Negan was extra careful this morning, letting the water run warm over Carl before he soaped him up and wiped away with gentle, circular motions all the grimy evidence of their night. When Negan ran his hands through Carl’s hair it was with a sort of sensual reverence that ended with a nibble down Carl’s neck, giving Carl a widespread case of goose bumps that made Negan laugh. He hugged Carl from behind and rubbed the bumps away, kissing his foamy hair and massaging his scalp, extra diligent around Carl’s shoulder when he made his way back down Carl’s body. It was the kindest he’d ever been, and possibility the kindest he would ever be. 

They were both hard before it was over, their breathing a little shallower and their skin a lot warmer. Carl didn’t think he could take it just yet. He could barely lift his arm without feeling the sharp pinch of Negan’s claim, least of all the twinges in his ass and his thighs. Thankfully Negan must have known that, keeping all his caresses external as he pressed up close behind Carl, grinding his erection into Carl’s back as he gave Carl the best reach-around handjob of his life.

Carl ended up with his head turned back against Negan’s shoulder, baring his bruised flesh for his alpha to see and approve of. It just felt right, and Negan rewarded it with careful suction as he worked them both to orgasm. 

The water washed it all away when they were done. They said nothing as they dried themselves and got dressed again. Carl accepted a little help here and there only because Negan wasn’t teasing him about it, and because it kind of felt good to be dotted on by an alpha. _His_ alpha. Carl’s alpha. 

 

Carl spent the rest of the day stuffed with painkillers and food. Negan got an ointment from the doctor for his shoulder (which Carl insisted on putting on himself), and changed all the bedding before he pushed Carl back into it. 

Carl didn’t mind as much as he thought he should. He also didn’t mind when Negan tugged him close that night, kissing his hair and smoothing his hands over Carl’s body like one would a cat. In the end Carl fell asleep against Negan’s chest, full, warm and safe. It was damn near heaven.

 

Negan dubbed the following days as the ‘honeymoon’ period. Carl rolled his eye but smiled to himself when Negan wasn’t looking. He did that a lot as the alpha came back to him again and again over the course of the week. There was a new, twisting happiness that settled itself in Carl’s belly, jumping for attention whenever Negan entered the room. Every time he saw Negan alive and smiling it was a relief in the same way it was when his father or Michonne would come back in one piece from a trip. It was bizarre to think of Negan as family but it was a reality now, just as the walkers were—whether he liked it or not.

Carl wasn’t sure if he liked that, but he did like everything else about it, and he showed it in the most instinctual way there was.

“You sure?” Negan groaned, pushing Carl’s shirt up so he could mouth at his back, squeezing every bit of Carl’s thighs he could.

“Yeah,” Carl nodded, heart hammering in his chest as he shifted his knees further apart, presenting in a tight arch. “Yeah.”

He felt Negan growl against the small of his back, sending millions of little tingles into his already aching centre. Carl had woken up with a hankering the next morning, slick and rock hard from a dream he couldn’t remember and couldn’t be bothered to.

All it took to lure Negan in was a lick to wet his lips, a look from beneath his lashes and to turn over onto his front, lifting the lower half of his body expectantly. It worked comically quickly and Negan wasn’t even ashamed, snapping out of his early morning stretch to stretch himself over Carl’s back instead.

“Hmmm, I like you like this. Needing my dick like a little slut…”

Carl would’ve shot him a dirty look if the words didn’t make him guilty with arousal.

Negan noticed anyhow, chuckling as Carl pushed back into Negan’s hips.

“Need my dick, Carl? Huh? Want daddy’s dick?”

Carl smushed his face into the pillow all ways, nodding and shaking his head and groaning at the _yes_ es that tried to escape him. His ass rose tellingly, there was no lying in that regard, no matter how hard he tried, not with Negan kneading and spreading his cheeks apart. He flushed damn near purple when Negan leaned back to get a better look.

He whistled at whatever he saw, spreading Carl apart a little more before thumbing over Carl’s quivering hole and rubbing it around the slick dribbling out.

“Jesus, baby. What got you so wet?”

Carl was panting and shaking already, boiling in anticipation over how good it was to get fucked. His body was still weak and soft from sleep adding that bit of thrill when Negan felt that much stronger and harder against him.

“I could be balls deep in you all day.”

Carl made a desperate sound at the mental image and reached under to stroke himself the same second Negan pulled out his cock and pressed it into him. 

Carl made another sound, his breath hitching, and whined when Negan manhandled him up onto both his hands, pulling him from the comfort of the pillow and the grip on his dick. There wasn’t time to ask or complain about it as Negan wound a hand in Carl’s hair and tugged, pawing at his hip as he sank in a few more brutal inches. Carl’s body was forced into another arch that had his head as high up as his ass. The ache in his marked shoulder and the stretched angle of his throat was manageable, overshadowed by the thrumming sexual energy pouring out of him.

“Shhhh…” Negan rubbed up and down Carl’s back to sooth his shaking, but it didn’t help much when his fingers brushed over the claiming mark he made, making Carl rattle all over again.

“Sore?”

Moving his head was impossible so Carl made a negative sound that came out stilted and impatient even though he meant it to be cautious. It was a surprise he could take Negan straight like that, but his body seemed to feel otherwise, opening and accepting every inch that Negan crammed slowly into his rapidly leaking hole.

 _False heat_ , he remembered as Negan said something else about how wet and loose he was. He definitely couldn’t take Negan straight like this on a regular day but he was _not_ complaining. Neither was Negan.

Negan fucked him like it was their first time all over again, desperate and needy but this time he wasn’t scared to really let Carl feel it. Carl’s arms buckled but he held himself up as Negan relentlessly pounded into him, holding him tight in place as if Carl might choose to escape for whatever reason. It wasn’t needed, it was just how it was with their biological dynamic, and Carl was content for the moment to be the typical omega and let Negan fuck him. He promised to himself he’d be more active next time, but right now he was still sleepy and Negan was more than happy to do all the work, so why not?

They knotted in that position and Carl learned in was a bit less comfortable than being knotted on his back. It was easier for Negan to get it in and keep it in but once that happened Carl felt like he couldn’t move an inch, filled uncomfortably with not only a huge cock but with its gigantic knot that sat heavily in his gut like a stone, it’s cum filling him somewhere deep and dark he could never reach with his own fingers. 

Small whines of discomfort expressed his predicament and Negan saw to that too by manoeuvring them so they were on their sides with Carl lying awkwardly over Negan’s one thigh, but it kept Carl’s hips up at Negan’s level and eased the discomfort. Negan also hooked an arm around Carl’s waist to spoon so Carl was basically floating above the bed, ironic as his head was in the clouds as they waited for the knot to go down.

Carl was definitely sore after that, but it didn’t stop them fucking the following day or the next day or the next day after that until the hormonal frenzy of their fresh bond worn off. All Carl’s days consisted of were food and sex. Negan changed the sheets everyday but it didn’t strip of room of the smell. It kept Carl in a daze, sleeping off the exertion of having sex with his alpha when said alpha was gone, and then waking up to eat and do it all over again. 

No matter how many times Negan came back from a day of work smelling like neutral things he left smelling like Carl and sex so it was only expected when everyone else in the Sanctuary knew about it. Carl tried not to avoid curious eyes whenever he left their room because that would show weakness, but it made him feel just as uneasy being leered at by a ton of other alphas and betas who knew he was getting it hard from their leader on a daily basis. It was none of their business, but it kind of had to be. He told himself he was the second most powerful person here and that they had to know it. Negan liked them knowing it, bragging loudly that he was officially a taken alpha with the craziest (handsomest, he’d added while winking at the deadpan on Carl’s face) omega any of them would have the luxury of knowing.

By the end of the week the novelty of it wore off among the Saviours and they didn’t stare anymore, instead they went back to ignoring Carl, giving him the same treatment they did the other wives—a distant, dutiful, indifferent respect. 

_The wives_. 

It took another couple days to work up the courage to visit them—and the will. Negan hadn’t mentioned them at all during the _honeymoon_ period. He usually liked to tease Carl about how much they liked him, but there was not a peep—good thing too because Carl wouldn’t fet comfortable talking about them while Negan was feeding, washing or screwing him. He ended up imagining Negan servicing them like that but it was difficult. It was easy to imagine him fucking them, but the other stuff was only between them, and he kind of liked that. A lot. The last time he’d had such an intimate relationship with anyone was when he bonded with Michonne, and that was entirely different.

Carl made sure he was clean, wearing fresh clothes and smelling like only himself before he wandered up to loiter along the corridor of the wives’ lounge. The guards stationed on the floor pretended not to watch him idling around back and forth from the door to the stairs and back again.

Just after turning from the door again it swung open and Amber fell out, laughing loudly a shoe hit the door. They collided but Carl caught their footing before they fell. He pulled away before she did at the cold shiver that tore through him at her touch.

“Carl.” She said as she righted herself, blinking owlishly.

“Hey.” He tried not show his hesitance and glanced warily around her into the room. It was too late to turn and walk away, Sherry had already spotted them from inside and made her way over.

“Carl.” She looked him up and down without even trying to hide it. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah. Uh, sorry I…I meant to come by sooner. Um…”

“We’re not going anywhere.”

And wasn’t that the truth. Was this his life now that he crossed the point of no return? Was it bad that it didn’t sound _as_ terrible as it might have before? That could just be the chemicals in his brain talking, but he’d deal with that later.

Sherry smiled and cocked her head. “Come in, we gotta do a shot.”

Carl followed her in, rubbing his hands on his jeans. “A shot of what?” 

“It’s a little ritual thing we do _afterwards_.”

Most of the wives were here, huddled in blankets against the nip in the air. Amber came back in and shut the door, leaving Carl at the mercy of their curious eyes. Unlike everyone else they hadn’t seen him at all, and unlike everyone else they _could_ dare to ask him how the sex was.

“Okay…” he said awkwardly, catching on but not wanting to ask for a detailed explanation of what ‘afterwards’ was.

“Amber, help me.” 

Sherry poured whiskey into a few shot glasses and Amber passed them around. Carl stood nearer to the door than all of them, feeling more out of place than the first day he’d come here to stay. He tried not to make eye contact with anyone, glad for his father’s hat and his hair to hide most of his face. The room smelt distinctly female after his isolated time with Negan, a neutral female beta smell and the feminine scents of perfume and make up. There was also a very weak scent of Negan where usually it was quite noticeable, and Carl stifled the stupid niggle of satisfaction knowing all Negan’s scent was either on him or in their bedroom. Fucking biology.

He was the last to receive a glass. Sherry handed it over and thinned her lips in an awkward excuse for smile. Carl would have mirrored but he didn’t want to discuss anything yet so he kept his expression his usual brand of stoic.

“To Carl.” Amber started, smiling a little easier.

“To Carl. May it only get better.” Sherry toasted, raising her glass. The other wives followed her lead, thankfully not looking _too_ interested. There were enough of them here that they must have done this so many times already it was just another way to count the time passing, even if he was nothing like them.

Carl wasn’t sure if he was supposed to join in, he’d never really toasted anything before, so he raised his own glass half way.

“To Carl.” The women chanted, and they all threw back the shot. Carl did that part with them, pulling a face with most of them at the burn.

Sherry smiled and took his empty glass from him, and went back to the bar. Carl followed her and the other women resumed whatever they had been doing before he arrived, Frankie threatening Amber with another shoe.

“So. Everything’s okay?” Sherry asked, eyes pointedly on the counter as she poured more shots.

Carl watched her hands. “Yeah.”

“We were wondering, but if it went bad we’d have known. Everyone knows Negan’s met his match.”

Carl looked up, ignoring the fuzziness that sprouted in his belly. It was harder to hide the pink cheeks. 

“…Has it ever been bad for you guys?”

“No. I mean, not like that. But you’re different, and he’s not as perfect as he acts so we were kind of worried. Some of us have bets.”

“Bets on what?”

“On which of you kills the other.”

There was a humour in her voice that made it sound like she met the married kind of _ugh-I-am-going-to-kill-him_ way, but did she know how close to the real thing she was? Maybe she did…maybe she was hoping for it. There was no way she didn’t still love Dwight enough to want that.

“We’re just glad you’re okay.” She added when he stayed quiet in thought. “You’re tough. I know you can handle him.”

Handling Negan’s personality or his sexuality? Carl didn’t dare ask. Maybe both. It was likely both.

He drank his second shot after she handed it to him. She sighed after drinking her own.

“You must miss home.”

Carl sprouted a smile automatically, glancing towards the window as if it led to Alexandria. “Yeah. Really miss my sister.”

“Are you, you know, allowed to see her again?”

“Yeah. Negan said I can go with him next time he goes there.” 

He’d almost forgotten to find out when Negan was going back. He hadn’t thought of much in the past week, but he definitely needed to think about whether he _would_ tag along to Alexandria on the next trip or not. Was he ready to face his father again? Was he ready to see Michonne? Was he ready to hold Judith and watch her cry when he leaves? Was he ready to watch the disgust on his friends’ and family’s faces when the found out he’d finally been claimed? Fucked and knotted on his back by the man they all resented most? It was insanity that the idea of staying back sounded more comforting. He needed to see Daryl again, or even Eugene, something familiar to balance out whatever was growing inside him.

“It’ll come soon enough. So, any thought on taking up a job?”

“I haven’t really thought about it, but I guess have to do something.”

“You’d probably be put on look out or guard duty if you were someone else, but that’s a bit dangerous. Do you have any other skills?”

“I can handle look out duty and scavenging and fighting, all of it. He’ll have to station me somewhere.”

Sherry smiled, nodding as she knowing averted her eyes. “We’ll see what he does.”

“He has to. I’ll go insane. I mean, you know what I mean. I’m not…” He looked back at the women. “This isn’t my life.” He’d been so busy just adapting that he hadn’t had time to think about taking on a job that wasn’t being one of the wives. But the more he became used to it, the more idle he’d become. He’d need more to do than sit around waiting for Negan to call his number.

Sherry smirked. “And that’s exactly why my money is on you.”

They laughed together, and Sherry poured them some juice instead of more alcohol.

“Before you _do_ get into a fight with him about it just remember there are a lot of jobs that always need people. Important jobs that don’t need you to risk your life. Unless you really want to piss him off at least consider something safer first.”

Carl blew the air out of his cheeks, but he nodded. She toasted his glass and they drank. She didn’t go into detail about the jobs, but it gave him something to discuss with Negan instead of instigating another round of sex like an actual slut.

“I’ll see.” He grumbled.

Sherry chuckled. “But only if you _want_ to, Carl. It’s just that you don’t _have_ to anymore. You don’t have to worry about surviving, and struggling. Fighting. If you want, you can take a holiday. No one’s going to say anything.”

“…I’ve never not had to fight. And when everyone else thought they didn’t, I was right. I can’t let my guard down. I can’t not keep going. I can’t get lazy. And I’m not saying you all are, I’m just…”

“I get it.”

“I can’t get soft. I’ll need to get a job.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll keep him distracted.”

Carl started to nod before he felt the thick, sludge-like feeling that spread through his chest as if the cavity was empty and cold. He frowned, not knowing what to make of that, and when he looked at Sherry she looked worried, and he spoke without thinking, always ready to sacrifice himself.

“I won’t say you brought it up.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

Carl kept quiet after that, listening to her with one ear as she went on about inconsequential stuff. He welcomed the mundane topics over more personal topics, especially seeing as he still had a lot of loose ends inside him. Maybe mating didn’t solve everything because suddenly he was alone, even when Negan joined the crowded lounge a couple hours later.

“Daddy’s back, dolls. Miss me?”

The wives murmured yeses and gave him nods and smiles, lifting their faces if they were on the way through and Negan looked like he wanted to kiss them. He kissed a couple on their lips, the look in his eyes far from chaste even after everything Carl had given him. 

“I missed you.” Negan grinned as he strolled through, taking his sweet time before reaching Carl and Sherry. “Sherry, babe, what did I say?”

Sherry rolled her eyes. “Want a drink?”

“Sure, why not.”

“About what?” Carl asked, looking up from under the rim of his hat, which Negan rudely pulled off. “Hey—”

“Relax, jeez. I like to see my wives.”

Carl rolled his eye too and looked away as Negan put the hat on the side of the counter furthest from Carl, and fluffed Carl’s hair out of his face.

“And FYI, I was telling Sherry that you’re fine and that she doesn’t need to worry about you. And here you are, so can you stop putting me in the dog house?” Negan said the last bit to Sherry who passed him his drink with an exaggerated knock of the glass into the wood.

“I didn’t say he wasn’t.”

“You should’a seen the looks they gave me,” Negan bumped Carl’s arm with his while grinning at Sherry like he was telling some big joke. “Like ‘ _A whole week and then some, Negan? Damn._ ’. I think they was just a bit jealous.”

“I didn’t come here to talk about that.” Carl snapped.

“Then what the hell have you talking about? The weather?”

“He doesn’t want to talk about it.”

Negan gave them both a look. “Jesus, what the fuck got you two so grumpy?”

“Negan,” Sherry stressed softly, gesturing with her eyes to Carl.

Carl caught it in his peripheral vision and saved them the time of treating him like some dumb kid.

“Can we keep that stuff between us? It’s private to me.” He looked at Negan as calmly as he could, keeping his tone even so there was nothing to pick on. Negan regarded him in thought, and then nodded.

“All right. If that’s what you want.”

“Thanks.”

Negan made a look as if Carl was the ridiculous one, but he ended the topic by drinking his shot and holding it out for a refill. Sherry obliged, offering Carl too, but he shook his head.

“Going on a run tomorrow. Want anything?”

Carl looked up, but the question was directed at Sherry.

“Deodorant would be great. I’ll ask the others if there is anything else.”

“All right. I’ll pick up some for you too. Would that be okay, Carl?”

Carl pursed his lips at Negan’s expression and gave him a nod-shrug.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Deodorant would be nice, Carl supposed. Negan hadn’t complained about his smell (he only ever got riled up by it), but Carl could remember the days when his dad bought his mom some expensive perfume for her birthdays. It was more of a gift than a hinted complaint. And if he was going to stay here and play his part, he had to accept gifts and smell the way Negan wanted, just like the others. 

“Can you find some toys?” he blurted.

“Toys?” Negan asked, smirking.

“For Judith. She needs new things.”

Negan’s smirk turned into a genuine smile. He blinked, looking far too handsome thinking about something far too pure for someone so ugly inside.

“You know what, I’ll get her a bit of everything. She still in diapers? What does she eat?”

“Still diapers. She eats…whatever.”

Negan’s lips twitched at that, but he covered it with a wider smile. “I’ll get her the works.”

Carl smiled too. “Thanks.”

“All right. I’m heading out, gotta some shit to see to. See you later.”

Carl and Sherry both nodded, but Negan was looking at Carl as he left, and Carl felt the space in his chest close up a little. He left the room too as soon as it wasn’t suspicious and picked up dinner before heading to the bedroom. He sat up waiting for Negan to return, thinking about Judith, thinking about Negan, until the latter showed up, groaning and throwing his jacket and boots off. Carl sat on the edge of the bed, pretending to read a book.

“Bad day?” 

“Ah, same old, same old.”

When Negan came closer Carl’s nose scrunched up. “You smell.”

“Wow. Rude, Carl.” Negan said, and threw himself anyway onto the bed with another loud groan.

Carl pulled an even more disgusted face at Negan’s stinky socks, but they were different to the kind of smell he meant. It was the scent of so many other people on Negan that bothered him most.

“Not tired?” 

Carl looked to his book when Negan gestured to it.

“Kinda.”

“Just felt like waiting up for daddy?”

Carl smacked Negan’s feet with the book. Negan cackled and drew his feet back, putting his hands behind his head. Carl had the most insufferable urge to climb into his lap and press down on his crotch.

“I have other things to do.”

“Yeah? Tell me about them.”

Carl hesitated, pressing his lips thin because he knew Negan knew there wasn’t actually anything.

“…I need a job.”

“Oh?”

“A job. I want to be assigned to something. I want to help out.”

Negan pulled a slight face. “Why? Don’t you know how to have a break? Have a KitKat?”

“I have, for like a month already. I can’t do that forever.”

“Sure you can. You already have a job. _That’s_ your job. To stay pretty and be ready with a smile when I want you.”

Before Carl could even get out a dirty look Negan held out a hand to shut him up.

“Let me rephrase that—when I _need_ you. My job is stressful as heck and I need my hot wives to make me feel better after a long, shitty day. That’s your job. It’s a hell of a lot better than standing in the sun all day or running around out there with the dead.”

“To _you_.”

“Are you really gonna fight me on this? Would you _really, truly_ prefer that bullshit to being here in my bed?”

Carl slowly closed his mouth.

Negan made finger guns. “Exactly.”

“…I’m good for other things.”

“Carl,” Negan rolled his eyes and sat up. “I know that. But right now, I want you to relax and enjoy life. I’m giving that to you, it’s a rare fucking thing. When I need you being your badass self I’ll hand you a gun and let you lose. Till then, your job is to do what I say, ‘within reason’, and I say I want you to put Carl Grimes first. Eat, sleep, put on a little lotion, maybe shave your legs. Treat yourself. You’re not here as a soldier, I got enough’a those. You’re here for _me_ , remember?”

Carl sighed, shoulders dropping as the remainder settled on him. He nodded, but he still couldn’t help pursing his lips to the side. Then he frowned.

“Shave my legs?”

“Ever felt shaved legs before? You won’t be so confused then.”

“Just now you’re going to ask me to wear makeup.”

Negan jerked a brow. “Only if you want to.”

“ _No_.”

Negan laughed and lay back down on the bed. “S’all right. I got a room full to do all that girly stuff for me.”

That should have made Carl relieved, he _knew_ it should have, but all that flushed through him was a new dose of weird anxiety that made it clear the sludge from earlier was still inside his chest.

“…Kid?”

“Huh?”

“You okay? Are you mad?”

Carl shook his head before even bothering to check. It wouldn’t matter anyway, he was here to do what Negan want.

“You’re so weird.” Negan said, affectionately, gesturing with his fingers for Carl to come closer and leaving his arm open.

Carl hesitated but his shoes were already off so that was that. He crawled into the crook of Negan’s arm and let Negan squish him against his chest, and immediately his chest felt fuller.

“So weird. I’m offering you the world and you won’t even put your feet up for a second.”

Carl shrugged and mumbled into his chest. “Maybe because I’m not a girl…”

“Nah, it’s not that. It should be because then we could at least blame the Omega in you. Omegas are supposed to like being at home, safe and cosy. That’s instinct. Don’t you feel it?”

Carl tried for a moment, but all he could feel was that his head felt like it was full of cotton and that Negan smelt good even under everyone’s scents.

“No? I dunno. Everyone likes being safe.”

“Yeah, but omegas aren’t the first ones at the door when walkers are nearby. You, you’re just weird.”

“I’ve only been an omega for a couple months.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re behind a bit. But we’re catching up, aren’t we?” Negan grinned down at him, nosing his hair and trying to catch his eye. “You’re such a natural when you’re horny…”

“Shut up…”

“For real. You got one’a the tightest pussies outta all’a them…”

Carl went cold and stiff like an icicle. Negan kept nosing around his hair, starting to pepper kisses, oblivious as Carl struggled to remember how to breathe evenly.

“I am so lucky to have scooped you up.”

Carl’s mind was blank, his emotions following along in stark contrast as Negan seemed to come alive against him, his kisses turning more serious. At least then when Negan reached his mouth he noticed, and he leaned back a little.

“Carl?”

Carl blinked as the cavity in his chest throbbed, full this time, but with that slop from earlier.

“Hey. What?”

“N-nothing,” Carl said, voice soft. “I—I’m just, nothing.”

Negan was quiet in thought for a moment.

“…Miss your family?”

Carl nodded, because he did.

Negan nodded too, licking his lips. Carl braced himself for a tongue down his throat, but Negan pulled off instead and went back to their first arrangement.

“I’m going there in a few days. Let me know if you wanna hop along for the ride.”

Carl nodded into his chest, fingers curling into Negan’s shirt even as he felt like he was still falling. He pressed close to Negan for his warmth, putting his chilly toes against Negan’s jeans, and stared into the fabric of Negan’s shirt until Negan was snoring softly. 

It took Carl much longer to fall asleep. He wasn’t sure why his chest was so tight when he’d accomplished what he had needed to make sure everyone would be safe, but he did know this feeling was almost as unbearable as imagining what would happen if he hadn’t. The worry was supposed to be over. So why wasn’t it?

 

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

 

When Negan left the following day with two trucks of men Carl wandered around to wonder what job he needed. And, begrudgingly, _if_ he needed one right now. Negan had a point, as always, and so did Sherry. It’s not like anyone would call him a freeloader. He wasn’t here in the same way everyone else was. He was here as Negan’s wife.

As _one_ of his wives…

Patrol or gate duty? Scavenging from the land or picking up quotas from the communities? Guard duty or weapon maintenance? Gardening or cleaning or cooking? Make decisions or take orders? There were even positions available to look after young kids in a fairly decent recreation room that Carl really wanted to bring Judith to. If he worked there he could make Negan happy and have Judith with him to bring her up and teach her what she needed to know. 

To be honest, he had the experience to look after more kids than Judith, and teach them all from their ABCs to how to hold a gun. He would prefer to fight, but he wasn’t the only guy who would have a ‘safer’ job. He didn’t need to be sticking his neck out for the Saviours anyway, they could go die for all he cared. However, the children were innocent. He might be of more value to them than next to Simon and the walkers. And, on the other hand, it would be something else he could do to make his father proud. Carl would be there for the kids, and Rick would support that at the very least. 

“Really? Well, how about that!” Negan beamed when Carl told him his thoughts. “You have no idea how pleased I am to hear that.”

“Yeah, yeah.” It definitely helped soften Carl when Negan had come back that afternoon with a trolley full of things for Judith. Carl couldn’t even be annoyed at the delight on Negan’s face, or when he so smugly said, “Look who fucked the omega outta you…”

Carl tried not to let it bother him, he’d been caring for Judith long before he presented, and he wasn’t twisted enough to think that taking that role was beneath him or inferior in anyway. He gave Negan a look, but he doubted Negan thought that either. He was too busy scratching through Judith’s things to care anyway, even as Negan pawed at him in the background, watching with a stupid smile on his face.

“This is cute.” Carl said as he turned a blonde ragdoll in his hands. It was almost as big as Judith.

“I thought she might like it. Every little girl needs her favourite doll, name it and shit. Have tea parties, play dress up.”

“She’ll like it.”

Negan squeezed Carl’s waist, looking over his shoulder. “I did good?”

Carl glanced over the rest of the stuff covering the bed. Clothes, diapers, hair bands and clips, teddy bears, Barbie dolls, Lego blocks, plastic cups and saucers, some rubber chicken thing Carl was positive was a dog toy, and a few puzzle sets that Carl hoped had big enough pieces to not be a choking hazard. Overall, it was more than good. There was even a dusty strip of cheap, red lollipops.

“You did good.” Carl turned and kissed Negan, and parted his lips when Negan dipped his tongue in. Negan groaned and slipped his arms right around, holding Carl up when his knees sagged.

“Thank you, baby.” Negan murmured against his lips, giving Carl one more squeeze and one more wet kiss before he pulled away.

Carl put the doll down and turned to see Negan fluffing out his jacket. Negan noticed him noticing.

“I’ll be back late. Don’t wait up, but find a place for all of that stuff will you? I’ll take it when I go to your dad.”

Carl nodded, already planning to just stuff it under the bed.

“Do you need help with anything?”

“Nah. You get to bed. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He wasn’t back before Carl knew it. Carl did wait up, pretending to be asleep when sleep refused to appear, and by the time he nodded off the side next to him was still empty. He didn’t know why Negan wasn’t there, or why he bothered to wait up.

 

“Are you serious?”

Carl tried not to be irritated at the woman who ran the day care. 

“Yes.”

“Um, okay. Uh, well, I suppose I could use—do you know how to handle children? Because it’s not _all_ instinct.”

That made Carl chuckle. A little bitter, maybe, but it was better than snapping.

“I have a little sister. I’m the one that bought her up.”

The woman nodded slowly. “Okay… And do you think you can handle other people’s children?”

“Is there a difference?”

“There is when they’re driving you up the wall.”

“I think I have a pretty low temper. Not including men with guns.”

The woman smiled tightly, clearly unsure, but she knew who he was and that was probably why she was hesitant to bother hire him or turn him away. His first day ever at the Sanctuary he killed a bunch of guys, and now he was mated to their leader. He must’ve seemed like some kind of freak to come out of that with a marriage and not execution.

“Well, my regular girl has been off. She’s having a baby. She won’t be back for a while, so I guess you can help around. If you want.”

“Only if you want it. I can’t do nothing all day forever. Might as well contribute.”

She cocked a brow. “…As a babysitter?”

“Negan.” He offered with a shrug.

She looked on the verge of saying a few things, but it came down to a noncommittal sound and a return shrug. 

“I wouldn’t hurt kids.” He added, feeling strange that he even had to point that out. “He just doesn’t want me risking my life now that he owns me.”

That garnered him a more sympathetic look.

“…Well, just come around whenever you can. I won’t say no to the help.”

“Thanks.”

“Um, so I’ll talk to Negan about your compensation? I’m not sure—”

“I don’t need that.”

“Wh—we all earn points for what we do.”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t need to. I just want to help out.”

She smiled a little easier this time, and she held out her hand.

“Okay then. I guess you’re hired. I’m Nancy.”

Carl got to work immediately. It was a day off for most of the parents so there were only about eight kids to run after, and all of them were under the age of ten. 

Nancy’s reservations about him were quelled by the end of the day and she even vouched for him when the wide-eyed mothers and fathers came by to pick up their kids. It was the children who sealed the deal though, they’d all been mesmerised from the moment he started telling them stories of whatever superheroes and cartoon characters he could remember from his own childhood. There wasn’t too much to work with here, he almost wanted to donate Judith’s new toys to them, but they seemed content with hearing about the story of Spiderman and how he and Mulan saved Mickey and Minnie Mouse from a castle guarded by a wild cat. It didn’t make a pinch of sense but it made them laugh and Carl felt a little happier too. The only thing missing was Judith sitting among them.

Carl fell asleep that night before Negan returned, genuinely tired and relaxed in a way he hadn’t been in a long time, and he liked it. He went back every day, helping Nancy to feed and bathe and teach the children what they could, and keep them entertained. They were a squealing, happy bunch, and even though Carl tried to deny it, they were drawn to him in a telling way. Deodorant did nothing to hide his omegan scent, that wasn’t its purpose, and the children took to him like ducklings with far too much trust than he felt was right. But what did they know? They were innocent, they didn’t have to second guess people, and they shouldn’t have to.

Nancy seemed happy for his help, her bones not what they used to be as she neared her mid-forties in a dystopian world. She only ever had good or neutral things to say about Negan, and Carl quickly realised it was because that was all she actually did have to say about him. As far as she and her family was concerned Negan and his men protected them, gave them food and shelter and a purpose, and as long as they behaved there was almost no reason to despise him. They feared and respected him, but they were no threat to him, in fact they were an asset, and Negan often said so when wandering about the Sanctuary. It was nice that at least some people benefitted from his system. Carl hoped his people would soon benefit too.

 

**XxXxXxXxXxXx**

 

“Go fish.”

Carl took a card from the pile. It didn’t help his hand, it would help Frankie, but he pretended to be satisfied and leaned back to hide it. It wasn’t the best move, he hadn’t won yet either, but it wasn’t bad to pass the time. There were too many card games and rules to keep track of, and he almost said ‘check mate’ in the last game they played, but it was fun to play with a group. He wasn’t a sore loser, he was pretty chill when it came to games, at least compared to the girls who started arguing a half hour in about who was cheating. 

They were gambling, so arguing was expected, especially seeing as they were betting up their favourite personal items. It made it a bit redundant for Carl who had little desire to win Sherry’s shiny red heels, so he was playing for fun rather than reward. He could already imagine Negan’s response if he did win the shoes, and he really didn’t feel like arguing with him over that. He liked when Negan was all smiles and kisses for him, but he didn’t want to have to wear Sherry’s heels for it.

“Give me…all…of your…fives.”

Everyone handed their fives over to Amber who _yay_ ed softly when she matched another set. The others groaned and sighed as though it were truly a tragedy. Carl almost laughed—he could only wish this was all tragedy could be.

Sherry won the game, keeping her shoes, but before another game could start Negan came waltzing in. Carl went warm all over, trying and failing to keep his eyes off of his alpha. It was like being on one end of a magnet.

“Good afternoon, my lovelies. How are we today?”

He leaned on the backrest of one of the sofas, grinning down at their circle on the carpet around the coffee table. He looked bigger from that angle, his beard a little more grown but his hair as neat as ever. Carl wanted to tug on all of it.

“What’s the game?” 

“Go Fish.” Sherry said.

“Damn, when last did I play that? I need to make more time for this. Maybe make us a game night. Do we have Monopoly?”

The ladies nodded and answered with yeses and they mentioned various other games that were stuck away in the cupboards, but it was funny seeing as how no one mentioned the Twister game.

“I’ll work that into rotation. Who’s winning?”

“I won last.” Sherry said, pointedly putting a hand on her shoes, making the other women give her playful, dirty looks while Carl tried vehemently to make eye contact with Negan around them for reasons he had yet to acknowledge.

“Atta girl.” Negan looked at Sherry instead and gave her a wink. She smiled at him, and Carl felt coldness settled on his shoulders as he watched them.

“Talking about rotation,” Negan went on, tearing his eyes from Sherry, looking around the group with what Carl easily recognised as lust, “Who’s missing me?”

Carl glanced at the women who almost simultaneously glanced at him and suddenly the whole lot of them were avoiding eye contact with one another. Negan laughed.

“What? I’m gone a whole week and no one missed me? That’s cold.”

The women laughed too, stunted, and shared looks which Carl assumed were meant to be shy or bashful, but it came off as awkward and it started to rub off onto him as everyone but Negan seemed to notice the elephant in the room.

“We’re in the middle of a game.” Carl said when he couldn’t take it anymore, and finally Negan looked at him.

“Losing one player won’t kill the mood. But it’ll certainly help mine.”

Carl almost went warm again, he almost blushed, _almost_ held back a smile, but Negan’s eyes drifted away again and the implication dawned on him.

_To no surprise. Why would it be?_

“Who’s it gonna be?”

As the women debated silently with one another Carl stared hard at Negan’s face. The alpha was all flirty smiles and bouncy eye brows, pretty much the same as day one. The only thing that was different was the way he skipped over Carl as he eyed each of his wives.

One of the women tentatively raised her hand. Negan clapped his hands together and winked. “All right, c’mon.”

Carl felt surprised when he instantly felt genuinely, utterly sick as he stared off, aware of the woman getting up, pushing her short dress down as she walked over to Negan. Why did she even bother to pretend she had modesty? Negan was going to rip that dress up the second they were alone.

“Gotta share my love, don’t I?” Negan said, and this Carl knew was directed at him, even as Negan pulled the woman to his side and kissed her.

Where were they going to do it? How were they going to do it? Was she better than Carl was? Did Negan like her better? Would he nibble on her neck? Would he knot her?

Sherry put her hand on Carl’s thigh and squeezed lightly as the pair walked out, closing the door behind them. Carl only reacted when he realised he wasn’t breathing.

“Uh, who wants to start next?” She asked. Carl handed her his cards before she even finished. He got up in a rush, his face and his palms burning hot in all the wrong ways, and made a dash for the door.

The women called after him, half of them almost shouting, but he couldn’t understand them and nor did he care to. All he could hear was the pounding of his heart and all that he could care about was the fact that it was Negan that made him feel like this. He marched out of the door, slamming it shut behind him and took off running blind until he found himself hunched over a toilet, bringing up his lunch.

It felt like that time he’d gotten drunk, only he was entirely sober. His head was spinning, his hands were shaking and his stomach was churning like a boat in a storm, a storm made of anger and pain. 

When he had nothing left to bring up he just sat there, staring at the bathroom tiles as if they would sooth him somehow, but they were as useless as he was as he tried to calm himself down. He almost thought he was in shock. He didn’t know why he was so, _so_ mad. He hadn’t been this livid since he had first set eyes on that bastard.

Carl wanted so badly to go back and get drunk but he didn’t want anyone to see him like this, over Negan of all people. He didn’t understand himself enough to even make excuses, he just wanted to cry every time he even tried to practice. In the end he sat against the door for the rest of the afternoon until the torrent in his veins died down and he was numb. Numb was good, it was as close to being drunk as he could without the alcohol. He forced himself to think of nothing, finally finding help in the wall tiles, tracing their patterns and noting the different shades.

For the first time in a few days Carl got in after Negan, and now he knew what had been going on every evening when Negan slipped out.

Negan was at the mirror, trimming his beard. “Bout time you got back, I was about to send out a search party. Where you been?”

“Nowhere.” Carl headed straight to bed, carefully sniffing the air as he went. When he was happy that the room didn’t smell of sex and woman he kicked his boots off and shrugged off his jacket, throwing it in a random direction, and got into bed as aggressively as he could. Apparently it didn’t give off enough of the _leave me alone_ vibe he hoped.

“Carl,” Negan called, sounding amused. Carl faced the wall, covers up to his ears. He would get hot quickly, but he’d stick it out until Negan fell asleep.

“I waited up for you and this is the thanks I get?”

Carl kept ignoring him.

“…Carl, don’t give me the cold shoulder.”

“…”

“You know I hate when you’re all pissy.”

“I want to sleep.”

Negan came over, flipping the light off and climbing into bed.

“Fine. Talk when you want.”

Carl forced himself to be quiet until Negan eventually drifted off. He felt the strangest sense of hurt when Negan didn’t try again to prompt anything out of him, like he didn’t care. 

Of course he didn’t care, he was _Negan_. And he was Carl, the enemy’s son. If Negan did have to care, it would be to his wives; his delicate, loyal, beautiful female wives. 

…But why did Negan choose her? Why _should_ Negan even _want_ to choose her? Wasn’t Carl enough? Hadn’t he shown Negan a good time? Hadn’t he proven he was here to stay? _Why was this bothering him so much_

Cold, silent tears fell into the bedding as Carl failed to keep the thoughts from racing through his head, although it felt more like they were racing scalding tyre tracks through his heart.

The anger had fizzled, leaving behind despair and pessimism that started whispering the worst things. As much as he wanted to turn around and beat Negan into the bedding, he knew it was all ridiculous. None of this should matter, he shouldn’t care.

But he did. He fucking did.

 

When he woke up the next morning it was to warm, moist pressure going along his shoulder and neck. It took him a while to react, it felt soothing and it almost sent him back to sleep, but when it clicked that it was Negan caressing him he finally let on that he was awake by jerking away and throwing a glare over his shoulder.

“Finally. You sleep like the dead.” Negan said with sleepy eyes and a smile, and a headful of bed hair. It was endearing—in theory. Carl’s emotions quickly caught up and he all he could see was a skeevy bastard.

“What? C’mon, don’t be mad—” Negan went in for another kiss. Carl ducked, and shifted over towards the end of his side of the bed. He bundled up the blankets again, and closed his eye.

Negan leaned over and slipped an arm around Carl over the blankets. 

“Don’t you want a morning quickie?”

Carl swung the covers off, most of it covering Negan, and jumped out of bed in a silent huff.

“Jesus Christ, fine! Go sulk like a little bitch.” Negan said as he fought with the blankets, kicking them off and springing up too.

Carl kicked his boots on, keeping his back to Negan. It didn’t stop him from hearing Negan muttering and banging things around, so he went faster, grabbing his jacket and hat as he rushed out.

“You could at least say good morning!” was the last thing he heard from Negan as he swung the door shut with all his might, instantly burning hot from head to toe. The men passing down the hall gave him a look as he knocked passed them, so did everyone else as he went to find a quiet spot to dwell.

He didn’t cry again, his tears had run out, not to mention he didn’t know _why_ he was even crying. It was like there were two separates voices inside him, both confident in what they were saying.

 _Fuck Negan_ , the one said.

 **You should’ve been the one to fuck Negan** , the other one said.

_You shouldn’t care._

**Why does he still want them?**

_Why do you care?_

**Does he really like me, or is it all about humiliating my father?**

_It doesn’t matter._

**What can they do that I can’t?**

_You don’t matter._

**Negan loves women, actual pussies and big breasts.**

_You’re here for your family, not to be happy._

**You need to make Negan happy.**

_You did what you were supposed to._

**You need to do more for him.**

Only one could win.

 

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

 

Carl approached Dwight later that day.

“Where’s Negan?”

Dwight looked him up and down and then shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Is he here or out?”

“He’s here, but I don’t know where.”

Carl sighed and walked off. He didn’t ask anyone else, and he gave Simon a particularly dark glower sometime during his search when they crossed paths. He kept searching but no one was evening mentioning Negan for Carl to get a hint of his whereabouts, so he changed course to find Sherry. 

He almost couldn’t believe he was about to ask her for sex advice but what else could he do? His every step was driven by the voice saying that his alpha was straying and he needed to know what he was doing wrong, even as his brain and his heart laid out every reason as to why this whole this was ludicrous.

But it didn’t stop him, a product of having nothing to keep him occupied. He had to know, at the very least to be able to keep their deal from failing.

He walked with single minded determination to keep himself from over thinking it, but both his voices were shut down flat as he came up onto the Wives’ floor, and caught Negan’s scent.

The very first urge was to follow it and find Negan and push him up against a wall and kiss him as hard as he could. He even took a step, but Negan’s scent wasn’t the only person he smelt. There was also the musky, familiar tang of sex, _and Sherry_.

Carl’s vision doubled. He stumbled into the wall and no matter how hard he to push it seemed to suck him back. He fought to get one foot in front of the other, his legs like wooden logs connected to stone blocks. 

He struggled forward blindly, led on by his nose past the many doors until he found where the scent was coming from, and then barged through. He would’ve gone through the wood if it was locked but the handle turned and the wood swung open. It hit the wall behind it as Carl stumbled in, his eye instantly zoning in on the sweaty, grunting mass of limbs on the bed.

The smell that came blasting towards Carl almost make him sick, forcing him to blink hard and clear his sight enough to see the surprised faces of his victims.

Sherry was on her hands and knees with her dress pushed up high around her hips. Her hair was a mess, she had a dazed look on her face and her breasts were just about falling out as Negan gave one last aborted thrust.

Carl only had a smidge of rationality left to hope that they weren’t tied by a knot before he grabbed the nearest object—a framed picture—and threw it with all of his might.

Sherry screamed and ducked and Negan shoved her to the side, throwing his arms up just in time to protect himself as the glass connected with the wall beside them and shattered. Sherry rolled and tumbled off the side of the bed, frantically pushing her dress down as she pressed into the corner of the wall, glancing from Carl to Negan to the door.

Carl left the door to her. Negan had just made it off the bed, shoving his cock back into his pants and looking furious when Carl shoved him back into the wall, and swung his fist. His knuckles connected and he heard a crunch and Negan roared. Sherry made a panicked sound and got to her feet, flying out the room as if the Devil were after her. It made Carl feel marginally better in some deep, dark way, but the satisfaction of it all was crushed when Negan shoved him back.

“Fuck!” Negan swore, clutching his bloody nose with one hand and using the other to keep Carl a metre away. He looked at his hand like he couldn’t believe what had just happened, so Carl swung again to help him out.

“What the _FUCK_!” Negan dodged this time and within seconds he got Carl into a headlock. He squeezed his arm tight around Carl’s throat and growled like a vicious, prowling beast that demanded nothing short of fearful submission, and Carl refused to respond. 

_Why should he? He came here to find out how to please his alpha, learn how to suck his cock if he had to, but this is what he got._

It just made angrier, logically and emotionally. Negan had him tight, no matter how hard he pulled Negan was stronger, so he reached back and scratched, catching Negan on the broken nose and just missing the eyes, and it earned him the gap to slip away.

“ _ **FUCK**_!” Negan bellowed, knocking his head back into the wall as he held his face. It didn’t buy Carl long, only enough to catch his footing and reach for the knife he no longer had. 

The violent urge must’ve been obvious because Negan looked madder than ever, features twitching as if he were about to rip Carl to shreds.

“What the FUCK, you psychotic little fucker!” he stalked forward and latched onto Carl’s jacket, teeth red behind his twitching lips.

“Fuck you!” Carl spat, putting everything he had into holding back the tears that spilled anyway, humiliating and reminding him that he was hurt more than he wanted to be, especially by this man of all people. He shoved and fought but Negan caught every shot, glaring as if he finally hated Carl as much as Carl hated him.

“No, fuck _you_! Who the hell do you think you are? If you _ever_ do that again—”

Carl got a good shot into Negan’s gut and got loose, back tracking to get some space from the snarling alpha.

“Shut up! Just shut up!” And here came the sobs. He sucked them back between grit teeth and screamed as loud as he could, helpless as the weakness escaped while he was trying to match Negan’s fury and strength in a vain effort he’d have known was futile if he was in his right mind. 

“Everything was going perfectly, Carl. Why? Huh? WHY?!”

“ _We’re_ mated!” Carl gestured wildly between the two of them, the words spilling out without a second’s thought. “You can’t blow me off when you feel like it to screw someone else!”

“Seriously? Are you for real?! Are you actually upset about this?!” Negan paused for a moment to laugh coldly. “What do you think they’re for? For decoration? Well, let me tell you, I’m not gonna let them sit there and gather dust.”

“So I can have another partner then? Huh?”

“Like hell! You accepted my terms when you signed on so you can’t decide to get pissed now. Your job—just like the rest of them—is to spread yourself over whatever I want whenever I want. I do not play favourites.”

They were both panting and huffing, the room filling with the smell of anger and bloodlust, washing away whatever sex and arousal that lingered. In the back of his mind Carl couldn’t help but notice how easily the scent dissipated compared to when it was his mixing with Negan’s. If Negan noticed, Carl couldn’t tell.

Negan rubbed his hands over his face after a tense moment of silence, careful around his nose.

“Look…you don’t mean this. It’s just the bond fucking with you, that’s all it is. I get it. But you need to learn to handle this. This isn’t—”

“Yeah.” Carl wiped his snotty nose, wishing he could wipe clean his every being. “You’re right. Who would really want a fucked up bastard like you?”

Negan pointed a finger in his face. “You know who? Another fucked up bastard like me. You can pretend all you want but you’re as bad as I am, only now everyone knows it. And I bet even if you weren’t omega you’d still be here flipping your shit because you’re a needy, jealous little fucker who wants me more than he wants his own dignity.”

Carl stepped back like he’d been slapped.

“…I hate you.”

“Get out of my sight.”

“Go die.” Carl said almost flippantly as he turned and stormed away.

Carl got his own room quickly after the incident, that very evening and just down the hall from Negan’s.

It was small and boxed and filled with the very basic comforts he would need, but it lacked distraction, giving him all the time in the world to brood. And the most pressing concern was _why did it have to take this long for him to feel the hatred he should’ve felt all this time_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry ?? these two aren't magnets for happiness? especially not together? OR alone in their own heads..??
> 
> But it won't end sad, promise.


End file.
